Children
by Raven Silvers
Summary: (references to my earlier story) 7 years after a second mission, all the League members have children. When the kids are kidnapped, their parents must go save them!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This, my dear readers, is the story where I finally understand how to get those damned italics up. Ain't I a genius? Well, anyhow, please review; this is the sequel to my other LXG fic. Enjoy. Er, wait. There are some references, okay, not some, but a lot, of references to my earlier story. If you don't get it, then I suggest you stop here and go read the other one. Really. 

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**CHAPTER 1**

LONDON, ENGLAND

DEEP IN THE CITY

9 PM

            Skinner chased a screaming kid around the small but comfy house, scowling as he went. The screaming kid was his 4-year-old daughter, Elizabeth. He usually called her Lizzy, for short; he hadn't even wanted to name her that, but he respected her mother's last wish. 

            Skinner jumped a little and caught his child, to much squirming. She tried to bite him as he carried her off to bed. Which was the reason he was chasing her in the first place. 

            After brushing her teeth, the little imp was supposed to go to bed. Her father had been reading when he saw her run past his own room, and had realized that it was going to take more than a story to put her to sleep. 

            "C'mon, kid, you are going to bed," he said. 

            "No! Daddy, I don't want to!" she pouted. "Mommy used to let me sleep later."

            "Well, mommy isn't here," Skinner said. "Shoo. Inside." He put her down and pushed her lightly into the room. He hid a wince at the mention of his late wife. Hannah had passed away two years ago from consumption, and he felt the emptiness whenever he was reminded of the empty space on the bed. He missed her warmth, her bright smile, the softness of her body...

            "Or no cookies," he threatened, waving a finger at her. 

            "You can't scare me," Lizzy pouted, glaring at her father. He scratched his head tiredly. 

            "Its not a scare," he said, helping her up the bed. "It's a promise. Now, sleep."

            She opened her little mouth, so full of witty remarks, to protest, but he waved the finger again. "Cookies." 

            She shut it with a huff and buried herself under the sheets. He sighed and left the room, holding it a little open so he could see whether she tried to get out again. After about a half hour of that, he closed the door with a sigh, retreating to his own room.

            He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder to the empty space beside him with another sigh. Everyday was a challenge with Lizzy. It was close to impossible to get her to sleep, eat, sit still, read, study or even to stay in one spot. The only thing that made her quiet was a piano; she was a prodigy at it. Problem was, he didn't own a piano. She had to go over to Jekyll's place to play. 

            He sighed again before turning in, thinking, _Why_ doesn't parenting come with a manual? _ _

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LONDON, ENGLAND

THE JEKYLL RESIDENCE 

2.01 AM

            Jekyll hardly stirred when he heard baby Noah wake up for the two o'clock feeding. He did, however, sit up tiredly just as Marie, his wife, finished feeding their child. 

            "Is he eating again?" he asked. Marie nodded as she climbed back into bed. 

            "He's been waking up less, that's good news," she said as she lied down. "Go back to sleep, Henry. I have it under control."

            He pretended to be, but watched proudly as she herself fell asleep. Their son, Noah, had been born six months ago, and he, Jekyll, had cut the umbilical cord. Noah, like him, had tousled dark hair and keen dark eyes. His small, pudgy hands liked to wander, so Jekyll had locked up his scientific equipment and the elixir to keep the child from doing anything that he would regret. 

            _I'm thankful Hyde isn't here, Jekyll thought. Hyde had shut up after Jekyll had kept from the temptation of the elixir for about a year, just before he had gotten married to Marie. He suppressed a shudder. _If Hyde had gotten loose... _he didn't want to think about the consequences to his family, the ones he loved so much._

           That thought only strengthened his resolution to keep Hyde down, unless _absolutely _necessary; say, with the League. And they had only called once, seven years ago. 

            Since the league had joined Special Branch, Jekyll had been ready to "leapt into action at a moment's notice", as Skinner put it. Jekyll smiled again. Since then, he had attended Skinner's wedding, been the best man, even. He had helped in Elizabeth's birth, and had helped with the preparations for the funeral of her mother. 

            Skinner and his daughter didn't exactly get along well. Skinner had remarked that "being with that kid, give you a lot of exercise. You have to chase her to do anything!" 

            The piano in the hall was the wedding gift from Marie's father, and Lizzy enjoyed going over to play. She was learning fast, and Skinner was proud. 

            Jekyll hoped that, when Noah grew up, he would make the doctor proud. Not that he was putting any pressure on the child. He just wanted to be a proud father, that was all.

            _But I hope the pride of his own will not come from something like Hyde._

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LONDON, ENGLAND

DEEP IN THE CITY

2.05 AM

            Mina woke in darkness and, for an electrified moment, lay perfectly still, roused unexpectedly from deep sleep by piercing terror she couldn't place. It left her completely disorientated. It took her a few extra seconds to realize she was in her own bed in her own house with her husband and that the said fear did not come from her frequent dreams of Dracula, but from outside herself. By the time she had fully woke up, the first hesitant murmur whispered through the silent room, no louder than Dorian's quiet breathing next to her. 

            "Mummy..." 

            Mina got up from the comfortable bed and wrapped herself in her robe against the cold. She padded into Lucy's room, which was next door. Entering, silent as a ghost, she kneeled down next to the five-year-old's low bed. 

           Lucy had been named after a dear friend of Mina's (#1), and certainly looked alike. She had long bangs of dark hair, probably inherited from her immortal father. The dark eyes peered out inquisitively, and she was following in her mother's footsteps and learning how to be a chemist. 

            And she was an immortal.

            A few days before, an empty beaker had smashed and Lucy had fallen down, cutting her hands. They had healed instantly. Now, as her child called out for her, Mina felt the protective spirit of a mother come over her once again. 

            "Mummy..."

            Mina stroked her daughter's hair, so much like shiny silk threads. "Lucy?"

            At her touch, little Lucy woke up with a sigh of relief. "Mummy..." She wrapped her arms around Mina's neck, allowing her mother to carry her, resting her warm cheek against Mina's cooler one. Mina, with her vampiric senses, heard Dorian get up and sensed him enter the room. Lucy had closed her eyes and settled her head against Mina's breast, letting her mother stroke her hair in silence.

            "What is it?" Dorian asked, softly, as he crouched down next to Mina. 

            "Dragons," Lucy whispered. "Big, ugly dragons. They wanted to eat me." As she spoke, she clutched the fabric of Mina's nightdress, glancing fearfully around the room. 

            "It's alright, Lucy," Dorian said, and Mina handed their child over to him. "We're here."

            "Daddy..." she clutched at his shirt. "Don't go. They'll come again."  

            Dorian looked at Mina over the top of Lucy's head. Mina gave a silent nod. They would stay with Lucy until she fell asleep; hopefully, the dragons wouldn't come again. 

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LONDON, ENGLAND

DEEP IN THE CITY

2.15 AM

            Allan lay awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. In the next room, his grandson, Will, slept peacefully. Will was Jack's (#2) only son, and Allan was raising him the same way he had raised Jack; but now, he swore he would keep Will out of danger. _No way will I lose him like I lost his father. _

            Will had come to live with him after finding out that he was alive, but under a change of name. Now, Will Quatermain went under the name of Will Dale, following his grandfather. 

            Will looked a lot like Jack; the hazel eyes gleamed with intelligence, the wit was there, and he usually talked without thinking; _and_ he was hopeless with girls. Just the other day, when Allan was heading home, he had seen Will becoming an nervous wreck when his crush, Catherine Willards, was there. The other Quatermain had hidden behind the corner, and had laughed when he saw Will try to get a grip on his nerves; when Catherine talked to him, Will would go all putty-legged, his stomach would have hundreds of butterflies, and he would break out into sweat and regret not being about to recite poetry.

             Allan smiled tiredly. _I need to get some sleep, he thought. In the morning he had to open the locksmith shop he had started. It was small, and the clients weren't exactly big names, but he fared pretty well. It was enough to keep him and Will going, so he wasn't complaining. _

            Will turned and there was a bump, followed by a curse that was supposed to be discreet, as the 12-year-old (#3) fell out of his bed. Why he kept doing that, Allan didn't know. With a sigh, Allan got out of bed and went to check on his grandson. 

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NEW YORK, AMERICA

DEEP IN THE CITY

2.26 AM (#4)

            Tom was sleeping soundly, dreaming, and snoring at the same time. A little down the hall, Alice Finn slept as well. Alice was the daughter of Huckleberry Finn and Becky Thatcher (#5). Since Becky's father was ill, she went back to Mississippi to visit, and at the same time, Huck had to go on a mission. Leaving Tom, Alice's godfather, to take care of her.

            Which he wasn't exactly enjoying.

            How Becky had raised the kid was beyond him. Tom had never met anyone so proper. The way Alice ate, talked, and walked, baffled him, making him think she was raised in London's high society instead of New York. And when she went to school, she came back with straight A's. Tom smiled at the memory of his own childhood, for he could not have cared less about school then. He remembered running away with Joe Harper and Huck, before attending their own funeral. Then, they had missed Gods-knows-how-many-days of school, and, naturally, Tom had been delighted. 

            Which wasn't the case for Alice.

            She loved going to school, which was actually easy for Tom, because he didn't need to take care of her. In the mornings, he went to do his own stuff, then came back in time to see her produce the next test in which she got another A*. It was driving him nuts. 

            _Only a week left to go, Tom, he kept telling himself. _A week before Becky comes home. A week before I'm free.__

Sometimes, he just wished a madman wanted to take over the world and the League would be called into action. 

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NAUTILUS

SOMEWHERE IN THE OCEAN

2.45 AM

            Nemo sat in his cabin, reading the letter he had received from his nephew, Ajit, in India. After the death of his father and Nemo's brother, Nemo had become the primary father figure for the child, who lived with his mother. Ajit was ten this year, and Nemo intended to send him a gift when they next docked. The handwriting on this letter greatly improved from the last, and it was written in Hindu, not English like the colony masters. 

_"Mother and I hope you to see you soon._

_Your nephew, _

_Ajit."_

            Nemo folded the letter neatly and placed it in the drawer where he kept all the letters he had received from Ajit and his mother. Ajit was nearing manhood, so his gift would have to be suitable. Nemo thought hard, feeling the comforting hum of the Nautlius' engines beneath his feet. He had to think. 

            _What does Ajit like? Nemo asked himself. Then an idea hit him. _I shall send him a figurine of the Nautilus. __

            That sounded right. Nemo nodded to himself and lied down, falling asleep almost immediately.

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 (#1) If you didn't read the book, Lucy Westenra was the name of Dracula's first victim, before he went on to Mina. Lucy was very close to Mina. 

(#2) They didn't mention the name of Allan's son in the movie, so I'm using the name from the book. 

(#3) Okay, I did the math, so if Will is 12, then that means he was born two years before the original mission. 

(#4) Since I have no idea what the time difference is between London and New York, let's just say that the whole world runs by one clock, okay? 

(#5) For those of you who didn't read the book, Becky Thatcher and Huck Finn are the 11-year-old Tom's crush and best friend respectively. And the rest of the paragraph is probably going to have hundreds of references to the book. 

A/N: That's it. Chapter 1 of this fic that I have no idea why I'm writing. Expect Chapter 2 soon, and this is really sucky, I know. Thanks for the reviews if you do review. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2's up! Hate me if you will, for making Mina marry Dorian. Well. Enjoy; I have nothing to say, for once. 

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**CHAPTER 2**

LONDON, ENGLAND

DEEP IN THE CITY

3.28 AM

            Skinner woke up, for what reason he didn't know. His heart beat wildly and he lay perfectly still as he tried to place what had woken him up. Outside, a thunderstorm raged. He frowned. _Something's wrong, _he thought. A flash of lighting lit up the room, and he jumped in his bed as the peal of thunder sounded, so loud he heard the glass vase on his desk rattle. 

            There wasn't any sound; all was quiet in the Skinner residence. 

            _Lizzy's sound asleep, she's totally quiet._

_            Totally quiet. _  __

            He sat up abruptly. That was the problem; Lizzy would be screaming for her daddy by now. She wasn't making a sound, which worried him greatly. He got out of bed, and walked as fast as he could to Lizzy's room. The way was lit up by the frequent flashes of lighting and the steadily increasing crescendo of thunder was enough to make him wish he had earplugs.  He rested a hand on the doorknob, hoping against hope that something wasn't wrong with his beloved daughter, then took a deep breath and pushed it open. 

            His stomach fell, his hopes dashed, and horror filled the very bottom of his soul.

            The bed was empty. The window was open. 

            Lizzy was gone. 

            Running to the window, he stuck his head out and felt the rain patter against his head, which wasn't exactly registering anything except blind fear. Peering out into the dark, stormy night, he struggled to rein in the panic. 

            "Lizzy!" he yelled, leaning out as far as he could, and he gravely misjudged the distance. With a cry of surprise, he fell out the window and down two floors into the very empty flowerbed below. A sickening snap and searing pain flooded his brain. He tried to place it, and figured it was from a broken arm. His ankle was numb and his head pounded. The two floors weren't exactly low from the ground.

            As he lost consciousness from the extreme pain he was in, he managed to whisper his daughter's name.

            "Elizabeth..." 

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LONDON, ENGLAND

THE JEKYLL RESIDENCE

3.30 AM

            Jekyll awoke when he heard Marie's cry of terror. Sitting up in bed, he blinked and saw that his wife was staring, horrified, at Noah's crib. He jumped out of bed. 

            "Marie, what is it?" he asked, worried. She was sobbing. 

            "Henry, Noah's gone!" she managed between sobs. She put her face into her hands and shook. 

            Those words chilled him to the bone. He got to her side and the chill in his bones increased until he felt positively chilled to the bone. 

            A flash of lighting served as his light, if only for a moment. The comfortable crib was vacant, the six-month old gone. The sheets looked as if their baby had struggled. 

            "Oh, god..."

            "Henry, do something!" Marie cried, hysterical. She clutched at his nightshirt. 

            "Calm down, Marie," he said, the bravado totally faked. He himself was on the verge of panic, but he knew that he had to keep calm if he were to think. "Police. We need to go to the police. Noah couldn't have sneaked out of his cot. Marie, get dressed. We're going to the station."

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LONDON, ENGLAND

DEEP IN THE CITY

3.42 AM

            Mina slept peacefully, but she slowly rose to consciousness by a odour she didn't know. She sat up and Dorian stirred beside her. She glanced around the dark room just as a peal of thunder sounded. 

            "What is it?" Dorian asked. She was silent for a while, then got out of bed and threw on her robe against the chill. She strode out of the room and Dorian followed, unsure of what she meant to do. She disappeared into Lucy's room and when Dorian entered, he felt his blood run cold.

            "I knew it," Mina whispered to no one in particular. "Someone was here. Someone we don't know."

            "Who?" Dorian asked.

            "I don't know," Mina said, louder this time. She took a deep breath, memorizing the scent. The terror she could identify most clearly, followed by exertion, as if someone had struggled. Her daughter's familiar smell of lilacs was there, as well as a more manly one, close to smelly rags. _Soil?She thought. There was the barest hint of it in the stink. She tried to place the type of soil. _Garden soil.___ Like mud. She filed it away and worked on the other scents. __Rain water, cobblestone, gas lighting, human..._

            "Mina?" Dorian inquired, touching her arm lightly and looking at her, concerned. "What is it?"    

            "Someone took Lucy." Mina's lovely green eyes flashed a blood red as her need for revenge took over. "They will pay." 

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LONDON, ENGLAND

DEEP IN THE CITY

3.52 AM

            Allan heard a loud _clunk _in Will's room and he sat up, listening intently. Another _clunk, then a yell of pain. Knowing something was wrong, because Will didn't fall out of bed twice in less than a minute, he got up and ran into Will's room._

            There, his grandson was struggling with a man, who kept his face in shadow. The lighting was their source of momentary light, and Allan saw that the window was open, soaking the man in the rain. At the sound of the opening door, Will barely spared a glance at his grandfather. 

            "Grandfather, help!" Will was thrown back by the man and he landed at Allan's feet. A angry snarl came from the guy in the shadows. Allan helped his grandson up and Will produced grabbed the nearest thing he could find; a empty glass bottle on the bureau that stood next to them. Before Allan could stop him, Will charged, leaving Allan alone in the middle of the room. He then realized that there was someone else in the room, besides the three men. 

            Too late, because stars exploded in his vision as someone hit him over the head with something hard.

            He struggled to fight the darkness that awaited him, to no avail as the floor came rushing up to meet him.

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NEW YORK, AMERICA

DEEP IN THE CITY

3.59 AM

            Tom came out of the toilet, and decided to check on Alice. She slept quietly, and he wondered if she did that all the time. Since he took over taking care of her three days ago, he found that she was as quiet as death when she slept; no sound at all. He found it unnerving, so he kept checking on her. Besides, he didn't want to let Huck down. 

            _It'll be interesting to see how she does it, he thought. _I guess she doesn't have to share a room with a brother. Unlike that idiot Sid. __

He opened the door silently, pushing open just a slight bit as he peeked in. He squinted in the dark. _Since when is her room this dark? _

As he pushed it more ajar, he noted that her gas lamp, aka night light, was off. Usually she didn't need it, but she was like other kids and was terrified of the dark. Well, at least she had something in common with other normal, snot-picking, dirty, naughty children. He pushed the door all the way and his heart leapt to his throat. 

            He swore. The window was open, and the curtains flapped lazily in the soft breeze that drifted into the room. Running to the windowsill, he knew it was useless to poke his head out of it, but he did so anyway. The night was clear, and he could see the beautiful stars high above the city. America was a fledging country, but all was quiet, now; it sounded, and looked, like a more, older country. Maybe like London. The night was a stark contrast to his mood right now. _No sign of her,he thought._ I am _so __dead if I don't find her._

He reasoned with himself, through a brain fogged with sleep, that maybe she could've gone down to the kitchen. He checked, and she wasn't there. He ransacked the house, and within the hour, it looked as if a tornado had ripped through the comfortable residence of Huck. The only thing that Tom didn't dare touch were the china. He hated to think what would happen if he touched Becky's china.

           Sitting down in the middle of a stack of his own clothes, he thought hard, placing himself in her shoes. _If I were eight, and I hated my goddad and wanted to get away from him, where would I go?        _

He couldn't think of any place. She wouldn't want to miss school the next day, he knew. So she would probably come home. Unless she took her clothes with her. With that thought, it spurred him into action and he threw open her closet doors. Since he did the laundry, he knew that nothing was missing. A sigh of relief escaped him.

            _Oh, no._

            His eyes widened at the realization, the last one theory that he hadn't wanted to think about. Grabbing his baldric, he was out of the door and headed to the police station, all the while thinking, _I am a dead man. _

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NAUTILUS

SOMEWHERE IN THE OCEAN

4.15 AM

            Nemo was awakened by the sound of a strip of paper being printed in the slot at the edge of the room. Standing up, he waited until it finished printing and read the dots on the paper. Although the message was pretty long, only three words mattered:

_Ajit is missing. _

            (#1) Nemo froze. _Ajit.__ Missing. His brain managed to process those few words. He felt numb. Ajit was the closest thing he had to a son, and the boy was showing promising signs of leadership and sailsmanship. Now that he was missing... _

            He dressed himself quickly, and was forming his orders in his mind: get the Nautipod ready, get his first mate to take care of the ship, the captain would be back in a few weeks. He had to look for Ajit. If he lost the boy...

            Nemo didn't want to think about that. 

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(#1) I just realized that Ajit's mum couldn't have sent the letter so quick, so let's just say that she has some wonderful mode of communication that can send a message to a submarine a few hundred feet under the sea in a little over an hour. 

A/N: call me a lousy writer. Go on, do it. I'm not afraid. Anyways, I think I'll continue this only if I get reviews.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: In response to a random review: Look, sweetheart, the references are from One Last Adventure, unless you've forgotten that Jekyll got married in that story. And also, in this chapter I introduce a few characters of my own creation. Enjoy.

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**CHAPTER 3 **

LONDON, ENGLAND

ALBION MUSEUM UNDERGROUND LIBRARY

SPECIAL BRANCH MEETING PLACE

            Allan entered the library, so full of memories he didn't want to have. A bandage was wrapped around his head, and he still had a slight headache after that baddie hit him over the noggin with a unlit gas lamp. 

            He didn't want to be here; he wanted to be out in the streets, looking for Will and his kidnappers. Judging from the expressions on his friend's faces, Allan guessed something similar had happened to the rest of the League. _Why is it now that there is a emergency? _

            Skinner sat at the far end of the table, scowling. He was in even worse shape than Allan; his arm was wrapped up, obviously broken; an eye had a dark bruise surrounding it, and the eye was swollen almost shut. Skinner's head, like Allan's, had a bandage wrapped around the mass of red hair. A scowl as dark as midnight was pasted on Skinner's otherwise boyish face. 

            "Where's Nemo and the boy?" Allan asked, looking around. Tom and the Indian captain was no where to be seen.

            "Dunno," Skinner replied. "And don't care." 

            Mina, looked as composed as ever even though she was seated in one chair down from Skinner. Dorian stood behind her, his manicured hands resting on the back of her seat. _If I didn't know better, _Allan thought, _I'd say she's been crying. _

Jekyll paced nervously around the room, and for once, Skinner didn't bother to stop the doctor. Jekyll checked his pocketwatch every few seconds, just like he used to in the first mission. 

            At Allan's entrance, Skinner's scowl deepened. "So, dear Mycroft can't even bother to show up on time? I have an appointment to keep, you know."

            "With a pretty barmaid?" Dorian said, dryly. Skinner looked as if he would jump the immortal and strangle him there and then, but the formerly-invisible man just scowled deeper, if such a thing were possible. 

            "He's right," Jekyll told Dorian. "We all have something to do right now, don't we? Besides waiting here for Mr. Holmes?"

            "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen, Mrs. Gray," Mycroft Holmes said as he entered, Dominicus Pike, his assistant, following behind him. The huge brother of the famous detective hadn't changed over the past seven years since the League members had last seen him. "But I called you here because I believe that all of you have the same problem."

            "Same problem?" Skinner made a rude noise as Mycroft took a seat at the end of the table, near where Allan stood. "Somehow I don't think so."

            "Skinner, shut up," Mina said, quiet danger in her voice. "Let the man finish."

            "Thank you, Mrs. Gray." Mycroft inclined his head in her direction. "I take it that you all know that your children are missing?"

            A deadly silence came down upon the room. Skinner sat up a little straighter and Jekyll stopped pacing. Mina narrowed her eyes and Dorian tightened his grip on the back of her chair. Allan himself paid a little more attention. 

            "How did you know?" Allan asked, suspicious and instantly wary. 

            Skinner's scowl darkened, if that were possible. There was obvious malice in his voice. "What is that supposed to mean, Holmes?"

            "Skinner," Allan, Dorian and Mina said, "Shut up."  

            "Well." Pike spoke up and passed manila folders down the table. Jekyll finally took a seat next to Skinner, and Allan lowered himself into another. Mina shared a folder with Dorian, who read over her shoulder. 

            "Who's this?" Dorian asked everyone in general. "And what has it to do with the disappearance of our children?"

            "The person in the picture is Lady Jesse Heathrow, daughter of the late Lord Edward Heathrow. She and her friends can help you," Mycroft explained. "They are...unique in certain areas."

            "Unique?" Mina asked, looking up from her folder. "How so?"

            "Lady Heathrow is gifted in certain arts," Pike said. "Her friends are very much like her in the sense that they can do similar things."

            "You need to fetch her, or, at least, get her to help you," Mycroft said. "She is currently in her mansion; her friends live with her. They would be your best chance if you want to get your children back."

            Dorian's brow lifted. "And what about Nemo and that American?"

            "Here," a voice came from a back door. Allan turned and saw, much to his relief, Tom and Nemo enter. "Sorry we're late."

            "Not at all, Captain, Agent," Pike said. "Although the rest of them were just about to set off."

            "We will join you," Nemo said. Allan saw that the dark eyes were clouded over, as if something was on Nemo's analytical mind. "The automobile waits outside."

            "Actually," Pike interrupted politely, "Lady Heathrow's mansion is in the countryside. In order to get there in time for nightfall, we have transportation arranged and waiting."

            "Nightfall?" Mina asked, raising one elegant brow. "One of them is a vampire?"

            Pike and Mycroft refused to say anything, and sent them on their way to their "transportation": an airplane, the new-fangled invention of the Wright brothers. Well, maybe not exactly new, but the technology was fairly untested for commercial use. 

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NEAR KEW GARDENS, ENGLAND (#1)

SOME TIME OUT OF LONDON

            As the plane landed, Dorian and Mina were the last to come out. Dorian surveyed the surrounding countryside; he didn't exactly like it, but he could live with it. Dusk was falling, and the sun hung low in the sky, but not yet setting. 

            Off in the distance, a large estate loomed, blocking out the sun's rays in the garden. Dorian supposed the only time when the sun shined into the small garden was noon. Allan led the way to the front gate, and rang the bell. 

            A man dressed in a butler's suit appeared. "How may I help you, sirs? And madam?"

            Skinner noticed Dorian's slight amusement at that. He hid another scowl beneath his cast.

            "We're looking for Lady Heathrow," Allan told the butler. "It's of major importance that we see her now."

            "The Lady is busy," the butler replied indignantly. "She requests no visitors."

            As the great hunter and the butler argued, tom looked up at the sky, so beautiful with its shades of blue, pink, read and golds. He liked it, although the sunset had seemed more forlorn to him as of late, ever since Alice had gone missing. He ran a hand through his blonde mass of hair again. He had went to the police, but he guessed something bigger was afoot, because the League had been called back into action.

            Besides, since when did all the children either related in some way or born to all of the League members go missing at the same time? 

            _This is way too fishy, Tom thought, looking around as the gate swung open inwards. Allan had won the argument and the League members walked down the path that winded through the opulent garden and were finally admitted into the Heathrow household. _

            Lady Jesse Heathrow was beautiful, with dark eyes gleaming with intelligence, so uncommon for ladies in her high social position. Her long, black hair hung until mid-waist, free from any restraints. She wore a simple cotton frock, not wasting her money on the dresses that London's society wore. 

            "Ma'am," Allan greeted. He took her hand. "My name is — "

            "— Allan Quatermain," Jesse finished for him as she adjusted her hand so that she could shake Allan's instead of letting him kiss the back of her wrist. "I know. Mycroft has been in contact."

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(#1) Credits to Vesica and the story "A Place In Thy Memory", Chapter 11. I got the Kew gardens thing from there. Thank you for the help (if unintended) and be nice; don't sue. And I have no idea if there are any estates near the Gardens, so, let's pretend that there are. 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okaay. That was chapter three. Thanks for all the reviews. Right. So. Shall we get on with business, my freaky darlings? 

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**CHAPTER 4**

HEATHROW FAMILY ESTATE

NEAR KEW GARDENS, ENGLAND

SOME TIME OUT OF LONDON

            Their female host led them into the living room, her long black hair swinging behind her as she walked. For Dorian, he found it intriguing that she wore clothes obviously meant for men. She was panting a little, so he figured that she was working out or something.         

            "I'm surprised you came here," Jesse said to Allan, whom she regarded as the leader, as they sat down. "I knew Mycroft told you about me and the others, but your presence _is _unexpected."

            "Well," Tom said, "We needed help. To find the kids."

            "I see." Jesse nodded. The butler came and served tea. "My sympathies." 

            Skinner snorted. "I don't suppose you have kids, do you, Lady Heathrow?" He leaned back in the comfortable couch. 

            Jesse's expression darkened. "That is none of your business, Mr. Skinner."

            "Touché, Lady Heathrow," Skinner said, then added quickly, "My apologies."  

            Her eyes now glinted with dangerous calm, a fury hidden; and also, pain. Allan knew how it felt; he had no doubt that Jesse had had children, but lost them in some way. He was reminded of Jack, and now Will. _I haven't lost him yet._

_            And I won't._

            "The way I see it, Mycroft told you to come here and ask for help," Jesse addressed Allan. He nodded.

            "The children are our priority, as is getting them back safely," Nemo said, choosing to stand. 

            "I can understand, Captain," Jesse nodded. "But we have limited resources, here...I'm not sure if we could be of any help."

            "Lady Heathrow," Dorian spoke up, earning a glare from Skinner, "Before you speak for your friends, I think it would be best if they were present."

            Jesse looked slightly alarmed. She swallowed. "Gentlemen...my friends are not of conventional people."

            "Well, Lady Heathrow," Mina said, "We are not of conventional people as well."

            That earned a few chuckles from the League members. Jesse raised an amused brow. She stood up, as did the rest of them who sat. "Fine. Follow me. I warn you...keep your minds open."

Jesse stopped and turned at the landing on the third floor, waiting for Skinner as he hobbled up the steps with Jekyll's help. As the two friends reached the landing, Jesse continued walking until they reached the end of the hallway, where there was a door, leading into a massive room. As they entered, Jesse grinned at their expressions.

            There was a thingflying near the high ceiling. Down on the floor, another girl of about twenty years was crouched, a deep, feral growl coming from her throat. In her hands she held two wickedly sharp daggers. Mina imagined she saw the female's eyes like a cat's; slitted pupils the color of honey. Obviously, her target was the flying thing at the ceiling. 

            The flying thing didn't come down, and only when Jesse sounded a angry shriek did it land with grace that should have been impossible. 

            "What is _that?" Tom whispered to himself. Jekyll's saucer eyes were wide open; if they had widened any more his eyeballs would have popped out. Skinner merely grinned his perverted grin when he saw that the woman who landed wasn't wearing much._

            "Me?" On closer inspection, the flyer was also a young woman, pretty and overly normal — with the exception of two wings on her back. They were like an angel's, with gray feathers and streaks of black in them. Shoulder-length orange hair was wet with sweat, the streaks of yellow darkened by the liquid, and Skinner noted that her ears were ever so pointed as the other female with the dagger joined them. Whiskey eyes studied the visitors. "Not a thing, mind. A person. Or is your skull so thick you can't see that?" 

            "Vic," Jesse admonished. "Don't be so rude to our guests. And get some clothes."

             "Sierra Worthbright," the one with the daggers said, shaking Jekyll's offered hand. "Charmed to meet you."

            "I'm Victoria Attenbrough," the one with wings said. To Sierra, "They don't look so extraordinary to me."

            "Vicky!" Sierra hissed, elbowing her friend in the ribs. 

            "These are my friends, gentlemen," Jesse said, ignoring the two bickering girls. "As you may or may not know, there is a world full of magicks out there. Among these magicks are different species. Like Vicky here. She's Aseyewrn."

            "I've heard of them," Mina spoke up, "But I never thought them to exist."

            "Well, sister, you're looking at one," Vic remarked, to a whack on the head by Sierra. "Ow!" 

            "Aseyewrn?" Jekyll asked. He had never heard of such a species. Skinner nodded.       

            "The Aseyewrn are winged flyers, like Vicky here," explained Jesse. "They descend from half-elves — the offspring of humans and elves — and the _affati_, the fierce bird-people. They're virtually extinct, and there are very few half-elves around; you can count all the Aseyewrn with the fingers on one hand."

            "Fascinating," Jekyll muttered. "And Miss Worthbright...? I, uh, noticed her, uh..."

            "Eyes," Sierra smiled. Her green eyes laughed, and she pushed strands of her light hazel hair out of her delicate face.   "I know. I daresay you heard the growl, too. Well, I'm a crossbreed. My mother is a Aclida, a race of felines. My father was a human. I have traits of both worlds, but I take after my father more."

            "She's one of the last of the crossbreeds," Vicky chirped. "Here comes Sloane now."

            From behind them, through the doorway, another person, a woman, all dressed in black, entered. "Hello."

            "Sloane, this is the League," Jesse told her vampire friend. "And, if I'm not wrong, Mrs. Gray is very much like you..." 

            "A vampire, are you, Mrs. Gray?" Sloane asked, a glint of mystery in her gray eyes, framed by a pale face. "And I was beginning to think our kind was extinct."

            "Half-vampire," Mina replied frostily. "I have found a partial cure."

            "You can go out in the sunlight," Sloane nodded appreciatively. 

            "And I don't need that much blood to sustain me," Mina added. Sloane's dark eyes were glittering with slight mirth; at what, Mina didn't know. Suddenly, there was a whizzing sound as Tom and Nemo ducked, a figure moving through the air so fast it was a blur of color.  

            "What the...?!" Tom exclaimed as he picked himself up. Jesse whipped around angrily. 

            "Dammnit, Crow! I told you, they're visitors!" She yelled at the ledges that lined the room. They were hidden in shadow as someone jumped down from one directly opposite them. He was a young man, with hazel hair and misty gray eyes, the color of Vicky's feathers. Those eyes were narrowed with suspicion. In one hand he held a bow that gleamed gold or silver, depending on the angle the light reflected off it. On his back he wore his quiver of arrows.

            "You didn't say they were coming today," Crow said, coming to stand next to Vicky. "And mind your language."

            "Oh. Sorry," Jesse smiled apologetically at the League. "I forget myself sometimes. This is Crow McGuire."

            "Does he descend from any magical heritage?" Nemo asked, dusting himself off.  

            Jesse shook her head as Sierra spoke. "He _has_ earned the respect of the elves, though. They rarely produce Goldsil wood bows anymore, except for those they deem worthy."

            "He has one," Vicky jerked a thumb at her friend. "And he has one hell of an aim."

            "I didn't shoot you down because I didn't want to hurt you," Crow said quietly. "But I could have."

            Mina instantly sensed that of all the five, Crow and Jesse would be the most dangerous. True, Sierra, Sloane and Vicky were dangerous as well, but not so much as Crow and the Heathrow. She would have to be extra cautious around them. 

            Jesse explained the situation to her friends. Sloane gestured and they gathered into a circle. She said something in a language that Mina didn't recognize. Dorian looked interested and Skinner sneezed, immediately turning invisible as Vicky threw him a glance. Her whiskey colored eyes widened and she grinned when he reappeared. Skinner winked. _He's flirting with her. _

            Mina smiled inwardly, and so did Allan. It had been a long time since they had seen courtship played out; Allan stopped after his son's death, while Mina had given up those games after the loss of Jonathan. She glanced at her husband. They would be together forever — literally. Both immortals, both unable to die. 

            _The curse or gift of immortality.___

Dorian's painting was hidden in the basement of their home, covered with a heavy cloth lest Lucy somehow get to it. The two lovers had gotten married in the months after their second mission, and Lucy was born shortly after. At the wedding, Skinner had made a point of not being there.

            She considered what had happened to the man.

            After getting married to Hannah, she knew that they had a baby girl. Hannah hadn't made it through a bout of consumption, and Skinner was left to take care and raise his child, with the help of Jekyll and his loving wife. Skinner, now, looked haggard through the bruises and cut lip; obviously, he had lost much sleep. 

            The red hair was tousled and Skinner yawned frequently. She was prepared to give him a sleeping draught if that kept on. Or, if he didn't take it, she would drug his drinks and food. 

            _If _it came to that.

            Finally, the circle broke up. Jesse addressed them, "We'll help."

            Nemo nodded, "Thank you."

            "It's alright." Jesse smiled. Vicky grinned and gave her wings anapproving flap. 

            "I assume you would want to set up a headquarters?" Crow said. The League members nodded, and Allan told them that they would need to get into contact with Mycroft to arrange things.

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A/N: So, Lady Heathrow's friends aren't all human; question is, will they be able to be useful? I really hope I satisfy your need for the story to go on in this chapter. Watch out for the next one; it won't be long in coming. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Life is good. _Very good. Thanky for all the reviews, I'm loving them. Okay, I'd like to address a few of those who reviewed: _

Clez: When I said in the first chapter that there were references to my earlier story "One Last Adventure", it was to say that this is more or less the sequel to it.

Qoheleth: Since I'm thinking that most of the people who read/write LXG fanfiction only watched the movie, and probably didn't read the original books. So, to minimize chaos, I'm putting the footnotes (is that what you call them?). 

Thank you all for the kind (and sometimes not so) words! Needless to say, I'll be trying to cut down on the footnotes, so some or most of the locations will be made-up by my genius mind. 

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**CHAPTER 5**

LONDON, ENGLAND

LIBRARY OF MYSTIC AND WICCAN TEXTS 

PRIVATE ROOMS

            Allan, being the gentleman he was, pulled open one side of the sprawling double doors for Jesse and company. Skinner, who, throughout the whole trip back to London, had been staring out the window at Vicky flying, took the other side of the oak doors. Vicky smiled at him as she followed Crow inside. 

            "Whoa," Jesse whispered, looking around in awe. The floor-to-ceiling shelves were lined with books of varying thickness, many of them so old that they seemed to be falling apart at the seams. At the far wall, the only one without a shelf, was an ornate holder which held precious volumes of scrolls dating back from ancient times. "Seriously whoa."

            Crow studied the volumes closest to him as the rest of them filed in. "Some of these are worth a fortune."

            "What's that?" Vicky asked as she flew in. She landed near the table. 

            "Wiccan texts," Sierra informed her. "Most of which we don't have." Mina stood by the doorway, Dorian (as usual) never far. Skinner pulled the door shut with difficulty as Jekyll tugged at the other. Nemo opted to stand a little behind Jesse and Allan. Tom entered in front of Sloane.   

            "That's saying something," Sloane added. "Good evening, Mr. Holmes."

            She was talking to Mycroft, who stood at the empty table in the middle of the room, Pike with him. He nodded. "Lady Heathrow. I'm glad you could help."

            "We all know why, Mycroft," Jesse said, icicles dropping off her voice. "I'd rather not go into it."

            "Yes. Well," Mycroft turned to face them in general. "I suppose you have questions."

            "Indeed, Mr. Holmes," said Mina. "Why are we in this library?"

            Sloane kept her neutral face, as did Crow, while their other friends glanced at each other. Mycroft answered for them. "That would be for Lady Heathrow to explain. Please, take a seat."

            All fourteen of them did, with the Lady and her friends at one end, the League on the other, with Mycroft and Pike in the middle. A battleground for the debate that would no doubt follow.

            Jesse started. "Once Mycroft here told me about what had happened and asked for my help, I had a hunch. All seven children were missing. In some forms of magic, seven is an essential number. For example, in an Aseyewrn spell of fire, for example, you need seven kinds of herbs, seven sorcerers, even seven targets, at times."

            "Jesse told us to check it up," Sierra helped her. "We found that, if one wanted to use a spell on a certain group of seven people, they would need anybody related to these seven in anyway; friends, family, ex-lovers, that kind of thing. In this case, it was the children."

            "The only kind of spell that needs seven children below fifteen years of age are that of the Syrem," Crow added. "They are one of the most powerful of all those who live under the rule of magic."

            "What does this spell do?" Nemo asked from down the other side of the table. He was leaning forward, eager to har more, as were the rest of them.

            "Well," Vicky said, tucking her wings deeper into her back so she could lean back into her seat, "the Syrem spell we identified is mainly for cursing people or Fightening."

            "Frightening," Tom immediately corrected. Vicky chuckled. 

            "No, Fightening. It's a term, mainly used for the kind of spells we found."

            "And which is...?" Jekyll asked, leaning forward even more. _It's something bad, he thought. _Just look at their faces. __

Crow's stern face had already taken its dark hints of a scowl, while Jesse was frowning.  Sierra looked grim. Sloane, as usual, was just plain broody. Only Vicky seemed unnaturally happy in a way.

            "The spell, doctor, is a spell that makes children grow up and inherit their parent's abilities," Jesse said. "And we suspect that whoever wants this to happen has a big grudge against you." 

            "What makes you say that?" Allan asked. Jesse sighed. Sloane said something in the previous language used to converse in private. 

            "I keep forgetting that you aren't versed in the history of the other worlds," Jesse sighed again. 

            "Ignorance is bliss," Dorian chipped in. Sierra nodded. 

            "The only other time that this spell was used was to take over the vampires, something that Dracula helped avert," Sloane said, looking pointedly at Mina. "It led to a civil war of sorts between each species. Jack the Ripper was from a race of blood-thirsty elves. He believed that the prostitutes he killed were part of the war, but no one knows for certain."

            "It's a miracle how the humans weren't drawn into the war, though," Crow commented. "Although there were a few of our kind involved."

            "So, this spell," Tom verbalized, "It's most likely going to be used against us. By who?"

            "Someone who has mastered the power of the Syrem," Sierra frowned, "Or one of the Syrem. Either way, the prospects aren't good."

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LONDON, ENGLAND

LIBRARY OF MYSTIC AND WICCAN TEXTS 

PRIVATE ROOMS

            "Skinner, help me get that scroll over there," Jekyll told his friend, pointing towards a stack of scrolls in the middle of the table. Skinner pulled one out. After Pike and Mycroft had taken their leave, someone had suggested they search up the books. Vicky was flying around the higher shelves, pulling out likely books. She finally landed with an armload of books and took her seat next to Skinner, who sat between her and Jekyll. Sloane flipped through the huge tome, taking down notes in a series of symbols that Mina recognized as shorthand. 

            Jesse and co had told the League what to look for, and they frequently checked their notes against theirs. About thirty percent of all the books were in a foreign language, and those went to Jesse, Sloane, Sierra, and Vicky. Crow had disappeared, and Jesse guessed that he was hiding out, looking for other stuff that would be helpful.

            "Let's see," Skinner muttered to himself, flipping through the book he took from Vicky. "Spells, six, eight...aha! Seven! Syrem spells: the number of Seven." He read that out loud, and everybody looked at him as Vicky grabbed the book from him and read aloud what it was written on the page. 

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A/And: Sucky chapter, short, I know. The next one will be the text and continuation. See ya then, and pls, review!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Wonderful; the sun seems to shine a little brighter whenever I get your reviews. No, wait; I _hate_ the sunlight! Anyhows, I find it fun to address the people who review, so I think I'm going to make it a chapter-y thing. Uh, as for the rating change....well, I'm very cautious. See for yourself why I changed it. 

**Clez****: Usually I don't give out my secrets, but I think I'll make an exception. To put italics in, just write whatever you're writing and save the document as a web page (if you're using Microsoft Word, which I am). **

**Heidi**: Yes, I was lazy, and named Jesse after the particular London airport. Hate me if you must.  

**Quinita**: Ouch. I'm rather proud of Jesse's  "strange" company.

**Graymoon74:** I'll take that as a compliment; I live to be sneaky, so I can steal the candy from the kitchen...

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**CHAPTER 6**

[Text from the book Skinner took out]

_Spells by the Syrem are almost always deadly; their power is immense, to the point of infinite. Others have tried this spell but failed; it requires the patience, power and will of a Syrem to do so. The spell is one of the most secret, most powerful. The children captured will be made to grow faster, compressing years into a matter of days. Once grown, the children will have inherited their parent's best traits, be they powers or not. The children, depending on the Syrem's wishes, can either help, or destroy those who sired them._

Vicky looked up from the book and looked at all those who had gathered around the seats located near her, grimness wiping away her wacky demeanor. 

            "This was what I was afraid of," Sloane said quietly, finally breaking the silence that had descended upon the room like London's early morning fog. "This is the same one."

            "Same one what?" Tom demanded. Jesse's expression darkened as Sierra and Vicky glanced at each other. "Lady Heathrow, please. Understand. The children are important as hell to us."

            "I know," Jesse said. "I know the feeling, Mr. Sawyer. I know it very well."

            "Madam, no offense intended," Jekyll said, "But I don't think you have children." Vicky had wanted to stop him and had reached out to do so, but was too late. He had already said the worst thing he could have said. Sierra nearly dropped her book and Sloane took a step away from her friend. Jesse slammed the book she was holding on the table so hard it jumped, fury blazing in her dark eyes.

            She merely held that stance for a while, glaring at everyone in general. Her friends knew better than to try and tell her to calm down; it would only end up in bloody noses. Jesse didn't looked strong, but those muscles of hers were formidable. She pivoted on her heel and stormed out of the room, pushing Crow aside as they reached the door at the same time. 

            "Jekyll," Crow said, quiet danger in his voice, "You shouldn't have done that. Of all the things you shouldn't have done, it was _that_." 

            Jesse went out of the library via the back door and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath to calm herself. The cold night air chilled her, but she found it oddly comforting, in a way. She ran a hand through her luscious hair, shaking her head to try to clear it. She closed her eyes and rested the back of her head against the red brick, but the tranquil state of that was quickly shattered when Allan opened the door and joined her. 

            They stood in silence for a few moments, before Allan finally spoke. "What happened?"

            Jesse kept her eyes closed. "She was adopted, barely a year old when I first got her. Six months later, she went missing. I searched the normal world before I stumbled upon the magicks. When I was making inquiries I met Vicky, Sierra and Sloane. They taught me all I know, and then some. I found out that Layne was taken and used in the spell we found. When we finally got to her, a few weeks later, she was sixteen and hated me with a passion. If you ask Crow, he'll remember...his son was there, too."

            She swallowed and fought back tears, struggling to clear her mind of the memories of her sweet little Layne, smiling with barely enough teeth to cover the huge mouth. Whenever Layne smiled, it would be so big that one eye would almost close while the other sparkled. The adorable way the baby would concentrate filled her mind's eye, and Jesse found herself remembering the tongue that stuck out whenever Layne was doing something. Allan didn't say a word, keeping silent out of respect and sympathy.  

            "We fought," she finally continued. "And...I was forced to kill her." 

            "I'm sorry," Allan said. "I can't imagine how painful it must have been."

            "Yeah." Jesse swallowed again and opened her eyes, looking down at the dirt. She paused, and when she spoke again the determination and authority was back in her voice. "That's why I want to help. I can't bear to see others go through what I and Crow had to go through. It's hard, knowing that you failed the children in some way, even through you know you didn't, not really." 

            Allan nodded. "I know."

            "I guess so," Jesse said, pushing herself off the wall and opening the door. "Which is why we need to do a locator spell now." 

            Allan followed Jesse back inside, steeling himself against the welcome gush of warm air. "A locator spell?"

            "It's a spell that'll help us locate the magicks or the people," Jesse explained, striding through the many rows of ancient texts. "Do you have something of your grandson?" 

            "Yes." Allan produced a lock of hair, bunched up and neatly tied with cord. When Allan was born, his father had snipped off a bit of his hair as a baby, and Allan didn't see the need to forgo the practice with his son and grandson. "Will this do?"

            Jesse took it from him and nodded. "It will."

            They pulled open the doors to the private rooms and entered. All those present and their heads turned to look at the arrivals. Jesse wasted no time in giving out orders. 

            "We're going to do a locator spell. Sierra, get the books. Sloane, clear the floor. Crow, materials. Vicky, take care of the symbols. Lady and gentlemen, please move out. We're going to look for your children."

           The League hesitated while Jesse's friends rushed to get what Jesse had ordered them to. At a subtle nod from Allan, Tom was the first to move to the side, and the others trusted his judgement and followed. 

            "I need something of your children's," Jesse told them. Sierra climbed up the ladder that lined the walls with supernatural grace and pulled out a thick book. Sloane pushed the large, heavy table and chairs out of the way, leaving a big space in the middle of the room. Crow disappeared again, and returned shortly, laden with candles and chalk. He passed one of the latter to Vicky, who proceeded to draw arcane symbols around a circle she made with red rock, taken from the pouch at her waist. Vicky kept muttering to herself, revising the order of the symbols so she wouldn't get it wrong. 

            Mina and Dorian managed to give Jesse a brooch that they had wanted to give Lucy the morning she went missing. Nemo surrendered an ornate disk he found in his pocket; Ajit had craved it a year back. Skinner pulled out a cross on a chain, one that he had given Lizzy. She never wore it save at her mother's funeral. Jekyll thought for a while and finally came up with coin. Noah loved playing with coins, and Jekyll was always near to make sure he didn't choke himself. Tom dug around in his pockets. Finally, he produced a red ribbon, the same kind that Alice used to secure her pigtails. How it got there, he didn't know, but he was thankful it was there in the first place. 

            Vicky finished her drawing with a triumphant grin and a four point figure in the middle of the circle. The ends of the inside figure touched the ends of the circle's insides. "Done," she declared. "We can start." Jesse nodded her thanks to the League members as she moved off to join her friends around the circle.    

            Jesse placed the items belonging to the children at her feet, and stood in middle of the four-point figure as Sierra handed her the book, and the rest too up postitions around the circle. Crow had lighted the candles and they burned softly, located between the friends. Jesse began to read from the book, ignoring the world around her, focusing on the spell. 

            "In this place I call upon the _kris'en'tren_, the Finder of all Things. Their children have these parents lost, taken from them by some means they cannot fathom. I ask the Finder, look for these children, for they are young and have only innocence to guide them."

            Orange light began to glow around Jesse, and it quickly spread to the rest of her friends. As she ended the stanza, the light began to become more liquid-like, as if it were water in the form of light. It swirled around Jesse, becoming a pillar. 

                                         "Finder, I beseech thee, bring these children back to their rightful parents,

                                          Find them by any means. To aid thee in thy search, I have brought items

                                         Of the children. Find them, I beseech thee. Find them, bring them back."

            The light began to brighten, but kept its translucent and watery appearance. It swirled even higher up around Jesse, encompassing her in its power. Dorian could literally feel the power ebbing from the light, a wave of massive proportions. Vicky spread her wings.

                                         "For this cause so rightly served, I present my only help to the Finder,

                                          My wings, so that thee shalt be able to find what has been lost." 

            Skinner backed up against the wall. _This is getting scary. _The column around Jesse swirled faster, brighter this time as Jesse spread her arms and lifted them up, to rein in the power and control it. Next, it was Sierra's turn. Her eyes turned feral yellow.

                                         "I help the Finder, with these eyes and senses so bestowed. I beseech 

                                          thee, Finder, search for what is lost, bring it back to the ones it has been 

                                          given." 

            The power around Jesse whirled like a tornado, and Allan covered his eyes with a hand to stop himself from going blind just as Crow started his part.

                                        "Finder, I offer thee my courage and my strength. That which was been lost

                                         Will be repaid in full to thee, for thy help. I ask thee, find what these people 

                                         So lost, in their ignorance and pride."

            Tom looked a little indignant at the last line, but he kept quiet. There was no knowing what would happen to the spell should he speak. He crossed his arms over his chest and Sloane started, teeth lengthening into fangs, her eyes a blood-red.

                                        "Finder, to aid thee in thy search, I offer immortality, so that thou may search

                                         For as long until the Lost is found." 

            The column rose to its zenith, a little over five feet below the ceiling. A whirlwind of noise filled the room, and loose papers and suchlike lifted off the tables and swirled around the full-blown tornado.

            "Finder, I call upon thee!" Jesse yelled over the howling of winds. "Search for those who have been lost! Bring them back! I command thee! Bring them home, find them so we may do so! Finder! _I command thee!_"

            Four more of the same last line were shouted. 

            "I command thee, fly over the mountains, over the seas, find that which has been lost! _I command thee do as I say!"_

            "I command thee, look for those lost with eyes and senses; find them, bring them back! _I command thee, do as I say!"_

            "I command thee,with this courage I lend, find, look for the lost, redeem them from the ignorance and pride! _I command thee, do as I say!" _

            "I command thee, with the mighty power of immortality, locate the Lost, find them and let us know! _I command thee, do as I say!" _

            The last line packed so much power and authority that both Allan and Nemo were surprised. They had known that Jesse was a natural leader, but they didn't know that she had _this _much power in her. The column shot up like a fountain, hitting the white ceiling and exploding all over it. Tendrils of its powerful light raced across the ceiling, meaning to outdo each other in both splendor and speed as they disappeared through tiny cracks.

            Jekyll jerked his face away from the light and everyone held a hand up to their eyes. Finally, the light receded and Jesse stepped out of the circle. 

            "We just need to wait," she said. "It could take a few hours. I suggest you go home, rest for the night. If there's no word from the Finder, come back in the morning. If there is, I'll send word to your places." 

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LONDON, ENGLAND

LIBRARY OF MYSTIC AND WICCAN TEXTS

PRIVATE ROOMS

(THE NEXT DAY)

            Mina and Dorian met Skinner, Tom, Allan, Nemo and Jekyll outside the privates room in the library. Jesse had not sent word that night, and all of them — Skinner especially — looked as if they had not gotten enough sleep. Together they entered the room.  

            What they saw shocked them to the bone. 

            Blood was splattered everywhere, the tables and chairs violently upturned. Crow was at the back of one table that rested on it side, near the door; it seemed as if he had used it for shelter. The back of his head was caved in, gray brain matter spilling on the floor with a pool of dark red blood. Mina immediately felt her vampiric senses threaten to take over. 

            Jesse was at the other end of the room, within the four-sided figure Vicky had drawn the night before. A sword was skewered through her belly, her eyes open in a shocked death-mask, suggesting a quick death. 

            Tom swore. Jesse and company had been their only chance at finding the children. "Where's Sierra, Vicky and Sloane?"

            "Look for them," Allan ordered, already moving away from the group. "Find them. Be careful; whatever got to them may still be here." The League members scoured the place, and Nemo found Sierra, dead, shoved behind on of the bookshelves. Something had clawed its way through her, ruining the wonderful face. An eyeball rested nearby. Mina soon realized that the pile of dust she stood in was Sloane. Well, what was left of her, anyway.  A single shaft of sunlight that shone in from an overhead window previously covered had killed the vampiress.

            Jekyll and Skinner looked around for Vicky. Already Skinner had feelings for the Aseyewrn. Romantic feelings he hadn't felt since Hannah had passed away. A soft moan drew them to a stack of papers and ripped book bindings, all resting in a pile under a fell bookshelf. Something white stuck out at an odd angle. Skinner and Jekyll set out to lift the bookshelf.

            "I think I found something!" Skinner declared, and the rest of the League hurried over and started to help. Nemo and Allan pulled Sierra's corpse out of its place and put it with Crow's and Jesse's in the middle of the room. All three of them had been slaughtered. Skinner finally managed to clear the top of the stack. 

            Vicky's face, bruised and bleeding, looked up at him.

            "Oh god, it's Vicky!" Skinner renewed his efforts. When the seven of them finally got her out, Jekyll realized that one of her wings was at an odd angle because it was broken. Dorian helped Tom pull Vicky's legs out from the mess, and they angled her so that her broken body cleared the pile. Skinner held her head in his arms, cradling it and turning it whenever Jekyll or Mina told him to. 

            besides having a broken wing, Vicky's lip was cut, and most of her body was bruised and bleeding. Her belly was torn up, and by the looks of her pale face, she had lost a lot of blood. 

            "She has a bullet in her shoulder," Jekyll told them. "And at the rate that she's losing blood...She'll die if we don't get her to a hospital." He took off his other coat to stem the main source of bleeding. 

            "Which one?" Dorian remarked. "All of them specialize in humans."

            Mina shot him a withering look. Nemo immediately offered the Natuilus. 

            "Problem is," Tom interjected. "I don't think they know how to treat the Aseyewrrn." Mina's gaze rambled over the room when she finally spotted something on one of the blood-stained shelves. 

            She pointed. It was a medical book, focusing mainly on non-humans. "Take that. We need a stretcher."

            Nemo nodded and whipped out his new fangled device that let him communicate the Nautilus. He called it the Comlink. He ordered up a stretcher and some medics. 

            After that, all they could do was wait and hope. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------- 

A/N: Right. Sorry this chapter took so long; I sprained my ankle and as it is, I can't move. Well, I can, but barely. Anyhow. It's longer so I made it up to you, in a way. See ya soon, hopefully the next one will be up. 


	7. Interlude

**FLASHBACK - (INTERLUDE)**

LONDON, ENGLAND

LIBRARY OF MYSTIC AND WICCAN TEXTS

PRIVATE ROOMS

            There was banging on the door. Vicky turned, looking at the door, which was by now rattling on its hinges. Jesse looked up from one of the pieces of paper she was sketching Vicky's wings on. Sierra rested her hand on the hilt of her dagger. 

            Crow glanced at them. It was past midnight, and the rest of the League had gone home. Sloane was out hunting, taking a little blood from the unwary horses in nearby stables. 

            Jesse pointed up. Vicky nodded, taking off from her spot on the table and hovering near the ceiling. Crow slowly and carefully nocked his bow, pointing the business end of it at the door. Even if it was one of the League, they dared not take chances. The locator spell might have given the baddies a clue as to where they were. 

             Jesse put down her sketch and stood up, heading towards the door. Sierra retreated into the shadows of the room, waiting to pounce on her prey should they be unwelcome. Her eyes flashed feral yellow.

            Jesse opened the door.

            A man of about thirty years stood there, looking like something from out of a modern fantasy story. Long hair that might once have been dark, but now was dotted with greys and whites. He had on a long coat that swept his ankles when he walked, and the shirt he wore inside was a dirty white. His companion was a brute; typical stuff that Cockney thugs were made of. Brawn and maybe brains, but that wasn't clear. A scar ran down from his forehead down to his left cheek, and she shuddered, immediately on guard. 

            Before any of her friends could open their mouths to speak, the one with the scar spoke. 

            "And I'm assuming you are in cahoots with the League of so-called Extraordinary Gentlemen?"

            Vicky was enraged. _'League of so-called Extraordinary Gentlemen'?!__ she thought. Skinner **_is_**__ extraordinary. He's cute, funny, and really — She stopped short. She had to keep her feelings for Skinner out of the way. _

            Jesse was the one who answered, very cautiously, "What has it to do with you?"

            The other one with the coat looked up, and although he couldn't see her from where he stood, Vicky had to suppress a shudder. There was something in his gray eyes that freaked her...something like cruelty, but worse than that. Sadism, maybe. 

            Scar-face just laughed, something that sounded like a cat being pulled under a carriage. "Well, luv, it has a-plenty to do with us."

            Suddenly they opened fire. Scar-face drew a pistol and started firing while Jesse leapt for cover. His friend had magicks on his side, and blue balls of flame flew around the room, chasing their targets. Crow let loose a hailstorm of arrows on the intruders and Sierra gave a snarl as she evaded the never-ending bullets to the attackers. She realized that the gun had to be enchanted, or else the magazine would have finished already at the rate he was going. 

            With a frightful screech, Vicky swept down and slashed at Scar-face and his friend. The one with the gun aimed up and nicked her, a single feather falling to the ground as she swerved to avoid the bullet. It reflected the light and she realized, with a start, that it was silver. _That could do lots of damage,_ she thought. She had to be more careful. Swooping and drawing her daggers, she almost lain open one of their faces when a bullet pierced her wing. Hot, searing pain shot up one wing and up her back. She screamed; her wings were durable, but sensitive, as she plummeted to the ground. Pain overcame her, blinding her. 

            A sickening snap as the bone broke. Already she was blinded; dimly, she hit something hard and went down. She then realized that it was a bookshelf when thousands of little bombs fell on her. It hurt like hell; her lip split and she knew that she was bruised badly. She was totally buried in the mini-avalanche, and it hurt. 

            Dimly, she saw Scar-face's friend draw a sword and Jesse appeared out of nowhere, another sword in hand. She and the baddie started to exchange powerful blows. Then, the darkness took her, mercifully, as Jesse became a sick version of a kebab. 


	8. Chapter 7

**Clez****: You're welcome. Don't worry, I intend to do something really horrible to the *bleep* who killed Jesse and Co. Wait, that was me! **

**Dorian's: **you've got me. The Comlink(s) _are based on Star Trek's. Did I ever mention I love Star Trek? I do! Especially Capt. Janeway and crew. Someone remind me to get to write one of those fics one day. _

**Graymoon74: **Thanks for the compliments. It really means a lot to me. As to what happened to my original characters...let's just say that it's supposed to lead to something more. Thanks for the idea about the magic to bring them back. Very good idea, that one. I'll think it over. *puts on indignant face* And I am not clumsy! Well, unless you count tripping over my own feet as clumsy...By the way, the cookies are under my bed, not in the kitchen. 

**Rachael:** Quite simply, _ouch. _That was one of the hardest kicks to my behind ever. I think you don't like me. What did I do to you? It hurts, you know. I had to bring myself to kill my "Mary-Sues" and now you're telling me to **_give the League some more action?!_**_  Sweetheart, they're the only ones I can give action to anymore! _

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**CHAPTER 7 **

INFIRMARY

NAUTILUS

LONDON DOCKS

            Skinner paced outside the piece of fabric and frame that kept Vicky away from him. He had been there since she had been brought in, which was...he glanced at a wall-mounted clock. About 13 hours. He cared for her, in more than a platonic way. Besides, she was the only link left to the Finder. 

           A moan came from behind the partition. Skinner darted behind it and saw that Vicky had woken up, moaning in pain. He helped her sit up as her wings unfurled from around her. They had wrapped themselves around her body throughout the whole healing process, and Mina and Jekyll had some how managed to get them open so they could treat her. They believed it was some sort of instinctual healing mechanism, developed as a survival tool at some point in the Aseyewrn's evolutionary process. 

            "Easy there," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You've had a hard knock around."

"You're telling me," she said quietly. She looked at him, hope burning in her warm amber eyes. "Did any of them — " She stopped short when she saw the grim expression on Skinner's boyish face. She swallowed, then whispered, "Not one of them?"

            Reluctantly, he nodded slowly. Tears welled up in her eyes, but they didn't fall as she closed her eyes to regain her bearings. His heart ached for her. He knew how she felt; Hannah had been his wife, and best friend. He was devastated by her loss. Hesitantly, he placed his hand over hers. She didn't draw back but instead opened her eyes and looked into his own purple and green ones.

            "How bad was it?" she asked. He shook his head. "Please, Rodney. I need to know what became of my friends." He was a bit surprised; no one had called him Rodney in a long time. With the League, it was always "Skinner". He described the scene to her, and when he got to the part about Crow, she looked ready to recycle her lunch. Anger blazed in her eyes, mixed with grief. 

            "Do you know who did this?" Skinner asked gently, not willing to push her too far. Her right wing twitched, a habit that kicked in whenever she was very angry or upset. Which, in this case, was both. She shook her head as the door to the Infirmary opened and Tom, both doctors, and Nemo filed in, with them Pike and Mycroft. Mina raised a brow when she saw Skinner and Vicky's hands. They didn't notice. 

            "I see you've woken up," Allan said. "How are you feeling?"

            "Alive," she said simply. "And thankful for every minute of it."

            Nemo raised a brow when he saw Skinner there. Vicky saw it and quickly supplied, "He was telling me what you found." 

            "Yes. Well," Mycroft finally said, "We believe the people who did this was part of the group who kidnapped the children in the first place."

            Vicky nodded. "The locator spell could have led them to the library. That was part of the risk. Jesse and the rest knew that."

           Skinner could tell she was hurting. Obviously, the five had been through much and were close. She attempted a smile, but it was tight. "It's good to know that they died quick."

            "Well, yes..." Jekyll said. "But the amount of blood there; most likely they inflicted major damage before they died."

            Vicky's grin had some grim humor in it as Tom said, "They went down fighting."

            She nodded and whispered to herself, "As they promised." Skinner was the only one who heard her. 

            "Do you know who did this?" asked Tom. Vicky shook her head with regret. 

            "One huge guy with a scar and another with a really nice coat that could do with a wash," she replied, earning a chuckle from Tom and a snicker from Skinner. "The one with the nice coat had a gun that didn't need a supply of silver bullets, probably enchanted. He had a sword, too. His friend was using these balls of blue fire. Pretty, really, but destructive." 

            Mycroft looked thoughtful. "I'll have to check up on those two; perhaps they are mercenaries or assassins."

            "Up for hire?" Skinner remarked. "Scary what you can get for ₤30 (#1) these days."

            Mina nodded. "What about the children? Did the Finder have any news before you were attacked?" 

            Sadly, Vicky shook her head and Jekyll's hopes took a skydiving lesson and landed at the pit of his stomach. "I'm sorry, but there was no news," she said. "But I could always do a spell. It'd tell what the Finder's found and...and..."

            She couldn't bring herself to say it, lest she start crying. Her friends were dead, her life in ruins at her feet. 

            "It'd tell us what happened," Skinner supplied quietly. He knew what Vicky was thinking. She nodded weakly. 

            "Every single minute of it," she answered, suddenly very tired — both emotionally and physically. She used her free hand and ran it through her thick orange hair, stifling a yawn. __

            Seeing this, Mina shooed the rest of them out, including Skinner, who went with many a protest. However, Vicky gave him a smile behind Mina's back, and he instantly shut up. 

 _---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------- _

 (#1) 30 pounds, in case you can't see it.                                                                                                                        

**A/N: My sincere apologies as to why this chapter took so long to be posted. It's just that I've been busy and haven't had the time to work on it. It may be a little short but (hopefully) I can get a longer and nicer one up soon. Hope you liked the Flashback/Interlude thing. By the way, if and when you leave a review, please tell me if you want this relationship between Skinner and Vicky to go further or if I should trash it. Sorry this chapter took so long. Really, very very sorry. *uses frying pan to whack self over head***


	9. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8 **

STATEROOM

NAUTILUS

LONDON DOCKS

            "Where's Vicky?" Allan asked, sitting down at the head of the table. Nemo took a place on the other end. 

            Skinner looked around. "Good question, that one. Where _is she?"_

            Vicky had been realized from the Infirmary a few hours before, having healed remarkably fast. Her wing was still a bit sore, but otherwise she was fine.   
            The rest of the League were gathered in the stateroom, full of gleaming white marble. There were twelve comfortable seats, seven of which were occupied by the League members themselves.

            Jekyll looked around. "I last saw her when she left the Infirmary." Mina nodded in agreement. 

            "Could it be she went outside for some fresh air?" Nemo voiced. Vicky needed to stretch her wings every so often, just as a normal person would need to stretch his legs. 

            As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. The League members looked at each other, and Nemo gave the affirmation to come in. Vicky strode in, with someone in tow who should be dead.

            Sloane. 

            "Whaa...?" Skinner started while Nemo straightened a little higher in his seat. Dorian looked genuinely surprised, and so did Mina. Jekyll nearly dropped his pocket-watch, which he had taken out to check. 

            Sloane nodded her greetings. "Gentlemen. Mrs. Gray."

            "Sorry I'm late," Vicky apologized. "I went back. To get Sloane. And find out what happened after I blacked out."

            Skinner had opened his mouth to speak, but Sloane beat him to it. "I was a pile of dust, yes, because they had magic that mimicked sunlight. Vicky is a respectable sorceress in her own right, and she managed to bring me back." 

            "And the others?" Allan asked. "Lady Heathrow, Crow and Sierra?"

            Vicky looked a little crestfallen at that. "I may be good, Mr. Quatermain, but I'm not _that _good."

            "But the good news is that we have at least one of them back," Jekyll interjected. "That isn't too bad."

            Vicky looked up and smiled, nodding. Tom moved to sit next to Allan, and Vicky accepted the seat between him and Skinner. Sloane planted herself next to Jekyll, who stared in disbelief. 

            "The two that attacked us are agents in Syrem employ," Sloane started. "We...went through the whole thing and found that they had this." She placed a ring and chain on the table. The chain was looped through the silver ring. The light reflected off it and they could see a intricate 'S' engraved into it. "The Syrem behind all this probably hired them to finish us off. What they didn't expect was to lose that in the fight." 

            "And the Finder...?" Tom asked. Vicky and Sloane glanced at each other.  

            "There was word, yes," Vicky said, adjusting herself. She was suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. "But the word is not good." 

            "How bad is it?" Nemo asked, leaning forward in his seat. 

            "Very bad," she nodded. "For the past few months, like the civil war that ravaged the magical species' years ago, this man has been gathering forces, making allies, that sort of thing. Even now, some species are still picking up the pieces. We've been keeping an eye on the situation, and sent word to the rest of those who the war will affect most. Namely, those who once belonged to the now-defunct Alliance. Men, elves, _affati, vampires, and Aclida. My people are few and far between, because of the war." Vicky's warm amber eyes narrowed. "They know that the evil is rising once more."_

            "You are something like a group of representatives. Human, vampire, two hybrids that encompass four of the species," Allan observed. Sloane nodded. 

            "We were the neutral party, representing most of the species, as you have said," she took over the narrative from her winged friend. "This man — he is powerful beyond comparison. It is unlikely that even the most mighty of wizards from either of the species will be able to beat him."

            "But why drag us into this?" Jekyll asked. "We had no part in the war."

            "Our prowess," Mina whispered, the pieces clicking into place. "He wanted our powers. Through our children."

            Sloane and Vicky nodded gravely, but it was Vicky who spoke. "With your abilities, the shattered Alliance will stand nary a chance. The elves, with their bond with nature's magic, could hold them off for a while. Humans, _affati_ and Aclida are fierce warriors, but they aren't immortal, like the vampires. Unfortunately, they're only good for battles at night, which is major drawback." 

            "The war would be a quick one," Skinner lamented. "These people don't stand a chance!"

            Allan shook his head. "Unless we get the children back in time." Sloane finally had a look of faint hope on her face. 

            "We stand a chance. We know where the children are, and I think we can get there in time."

            "Where is it?" asked Nemo, ready to order his men to set off. 

            "Venice, Italy." 

            Skinner grinned. _The irony of it, _he thought. _The place where this all began._

* * *

NAUTILUS

SOMEWHERE IN THE OCEAN

(A DAY LATER)

            Skinner and Vicky leaned against the rail of the deck, taking in the fresh air. She was teaching him elvish, and he picked up so fast he was able to conduct fairly intelligent conversation in the language now. She had explained to him that all five of them knew it well.

            "Since my father was a half-elf, we used to spend Christmas with his side of the family," she told him. "So I had to learn it, as a second language of sorts. Useful, really. In school, before I had to drop out because of these" — she gave her wings a flap — "I used to swear using elvish. Teachers and other students thought it was all made-up, so I got away scot-free." She smiled at the memory, and studied the lines of her wonderful face. He found himself dreaming of kissing her full lips and running his hands through her hair (which he had no doubt was silk), among other things. 

            "Interesting, though. You never spent time with your mother's side?" he asked. She sighed and turned around so that she didn't face the ocean any more.       "They consider me a monster, an unwanted hybrid. My mother died shortly after my birth, so I didn't really get to know her well or do the things that children do with their mothers," she said. "So I grew pretty close to my father. His side of the family hated me at first, but then they saw that I wouldn't have any family other than my father if they didn't accept me. So they took pity on me, acknowledged me."

            Skinner nodded. "Must've been hard."

            "It was alright," she said. "I mean, we had enough money to live on and all...just that I knew I was different. There are so few of my kind that it's close to impossible that I'll ever meet one such as me."

            "Vicky..." he reached out for her and took her hand. She didn't argue nor did she fight back. "You're special. We all are, y'know? That's what makes life interesting."       

            She looked at him and gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks."

            "Hey, no problem," he grinned. Just as he finished his sentence, Nemo came out from the belly of his beloved ship, telling them, Tom, Allan, Mina and Dorian that it was time to get inside because they were going to submerge  once again, on their way to Venice. 

* * *

A/N: There. Chapter 8, served hot off the platter. Or something like that. I'm already started on chapter 9, so expect it to be up in a few day's time. 


	10. Chapter 9

**Clez****: I just realized something. You've reviewed, like, on almost every chapter. Which, of course, I am eternally grateful for. And you're not the only one, but I'll mention those later. **

**Graymoon74: **Just to let you know, I don't intend to bring most of Jesse and co back. *dodges flames* But, if readers permit, something bigger might happen.

* * *

**CHAPTER 9**

INFIRMARY

NAUTILUS

VENICE 

            "Ouch," Vicky hissed as Sloane helped her bandage up a nasty gash on her forehead. "Ouch, ouch, ouch, _ouch!_"

            "Oh, quit whining," Sloane told her. "Be thankful you didn't need stitches. You're terrified of needles."

            "Hey, it isn't my fault that needles are sharp and pointy and _steel," Vicky shot back. "I mean, who wouldn't be scared of them?"           _

            "Me," Sloane said simply. Vicky looked as if she had been insulted, but refrained from commenting further.

            Mina gave a small smile as she helped Skinner set his arm. It was broken again, and he wasn't too happy about it. 

            "First I break it after falling out a window, then it heals, and then it _has to be broken again," he was grumbling. Mina ignored him, as she usually did. _

            They had reached Venice hours ago, had attacked the stronghold where the children were kept. Unfortunately, they were ambushed on the way there. Skinner had broken his arm when he fended off a crushing blow from one of the demon baddies. The demons who had attacked them were vicious, and the League, Vicky and Sloane gave them no mercy — because they knew they would receive none.

            "What were those, anyway?" Jekyll asked. "Those things that attacked us?" He was working on fixing himself up; Hyde had come out and done a lot of damage, but received a few cuts and scrapes along the way. 

            "Orcs(#1)," Sloane answered as she taped the bandage firmly down to Vicky's head. "We were lucky we managed to get rid of them so quickly."

            "What do you mean?" Allan asked, as he, Nemo, Dorian and Tom walked into the room. 

           "Orcs, like other demons," Vicky said, "Are very resilient, which is always good for prolonged battles. And ugly, too. Which, in my opinion, is useful for scaring potential threats away." 

            "Vicky has a more...childish look on Orcs," Sloane told them, to a puff from Vicky. "But, true. They are remarkably resilient, but all things have weakness. In their case, it's sunlight." 

            "A drawback on two fronts," Nemo nodded. Sloane agreed with him.

            "Let's say you're fighting in a building. The vampires are on your side. Pull down the roof, let the sunlight in, you kill maybe half your troops and most of the Orcs." 

* * *

STATEROOM

NAUTILUS

VENICE          

            "We should be able to storm the building," Allan told the League and their two allies. Skinner was out spying for them; by now, he should be in the building where they believed the children were held. "But that depends on Skinner's information."

            "And so he arrives!"

            The doors were thrown open, at the end of the room. All of them spun around in their seat. There was no one there, but there was the loud footsteps of Skinner. His coat, gloves, prince-nez and compact of greasepaint were picked up and quickly put on as Vicky watched in wonder. 

            "What news, Skinner?" Nemo asked. Skinner sat down and, for once, didn't take his time before answering.

            "The children aren't in there anymore," he told them.  "And, by the looks of it, I don't think they were ever there." 

            "What do you mean?" Mine shot at him.

            "Well, I scouted the whole place, checked every room," Skinner continued. "And they're full of those ugly things that attacked us yesterday."

            "How many, roughly?" asked Dorian.    

            "Dozens; a hundred isn't too much of an overstatement," he nodded at the immortal. "Anyway, there aren't any signs of where the kids might've been kept. In fact, there isn't any evidence any humans were ever there. Only those orcs."

            "How can this be?" Nemo asked Sloane. She sighed and leaned back in her seat. 

            "In every spell there is a margin of error," she said. "I'm afraid they managed to fool the Finder."

            "Damnation," Vicky muttered. 

            "And there's more," Skinner said quickly. "In the basement, they're working on swords,  shields, spears, the like. They have a boiler down there. By the looks of it, they're planning an invasion."

            "Of Venice?" Tom asked no one in particular. "What does Venice have?"

            "It may not be Venice, Tom," Vicky said. "They may move out to somewhere else once they're ready." She turned to Skinner. "Did you see horses, ships or anything that vaguely resembled a mode of transport?" 

            Skinner nodded. "Boats. Lots of them."

            "That means they're moving out," Sloane told Allan. "We have a few....contacts in the city. We can try to get the information from them. They move at night, and me and Vicky can go see them once the sun sets." 

            "Most contacts need money to persuade them," Nemo noted. "Something which we have not much of."

            Vicky grinned. "Leave that to me." 

* * *

DILUVIARE CASA PUB

VENICE, ITALY

DEEP IN THE CITY

            The night was clear, the stars little diamonds dotting the dark velvet sky. The city of Venice was not asleep yet, but the lights in some houses were already out. In one of the many streets that crisscrossed the great city, there was a row of pubs, facing the water. All of them had a sign, but, only one, at the end of the long row, had it's battered sign swinging slightly in the breeze.

            The Venetian pub was full, and the sounds of clinking glasses, unsure footsteps and what passed off as singing were almost inaudible in the back room that the bartender had offered them. Vicky had a man, held up by this neck, pinned to the wall.

            "Now, now, Edin," Sloane said from her seat at the large table, used mostly for illegal gambling by a few powerful men of the city. "You know better than to say you don't know anything. We _both _know that you have eyes and ears everywhere. Even the smallest bit of information wouldn't slip past you." 

            Tom sat opposite her at the round table, playing with one of his dueling pistols. Vicky had done a little dress-up for him, and he was wearing a hood and cloak, above his normal clothes. The hood was down, covering his face in shadow, making him look every dangerous. Dorian was there as well, but Vicky had conceded that he didn't need any props to make him look scary. Just a glint of his cane-sword would make one nervous. The two men were there because Sloane had drafted them as "bodyguards" to fool whoever might want to question them. In reality, Sloane and Vicky were better equipped to defend themselves in a fight.

            The man that Vicky held up — Edin was his name — struggled and tried to free himself. Unfortunately for him, Vicky was stronger than most humans, and he stood no chance. They had asked around, found out that Edin liked to hang out at the Diluviare Casa, a well-known pub in the middle of the city.

            "Well, Ed?" she asked. "Any news for your old pals Vicky and Sloane?" 

            "You're not friends," he managed, and gasped when she tightened her grip around his windpipe. 

            "Did you hear that, Sloane?" she asked. "He says we're not friends!"

            Dorian looked mildly interested. Tom hide a smile under the hood. Sloane just shook her head and sighed. 

            "Now, Edin," she said. "You're going to tell us what you know of the house along Fondamenta Bonlini (#2). Or we're going to make you."

            At that, Tom cocked his pistol and Dorian drew his sword, enough to let Edin see the blade. Edin gulped as best he could, with Vicky's hand at his throat.

            "Okay, okay," he said. "I _have _heard something on the street, but I can't recall...." Dorian drew his weapon out a little more, the soft whisper of steel against wood a subtle reminder of the deadly weapon it was. Edin was sweating, by now. "Then again," Edin added quickly, "I do remember something."

            "Spit it out, Edin," Vicky said. "Or I'll make making sure you'll be spitting out your insides next."

            "Alright, alright!" he gasped. "I know lots about it!" Vicky glanced over her shoulder at Sloane. The vampire nodded and Vicky pulled her hand away, and he slumped to the ground, massaging his throat where a bruise was already forming. Vicky stepped back until she stood next to Sloane as Edin started his story.

            By the end of it, they were all very grave.

* * *

(#1) LOTR fans rejoice. The Orcs are our baddie's minions, so expect to see more of the big and ugly creatures in the future. 

(#2) Fondamenta Bonlini is a street at the edge of Venice. 

A/N: Hmmm....what is it that makes them feel very grave? Anyhows, this chapter was completed a few days ago, but my broadband and Internet Explorer ganged up on me. Which, I think, is a sign of the end of the world.


	11. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

STATEROOM

NAUTILUS

VENICE, ITALY

            The League was assembled in the stateroom, waiting for Sloane and Vicky to show up. The two women had forbid Dorian and Tom to tell the League members what Edin had told them, so much so that they had cast a spell to prevent them from doing so. Every time they tried to say something about it, all that came out was gibberish. Still, Skinner and Tom were trying, with no effect at all. All the invisible man could make out was "cereal" and "dust bunnies", much to the amusement of Allan.   

            It was close to midnight, but none of them were tired. Vicky and Sloane had disappeared into their cabins after returning from the pub. One of them had sent word, asking the League to gather in the stateroom. 

            Insofar, the two were still not here.

            Just as Mina was going to say something, the doors were pushed open and Sloane held them there so Vicky could come in with an armload of weapons. She had no problem with the load, although it was obviously more than an average human man could carry. She grinned when she saw the looks on their faces; Dorian's eyebrow had disappeared into his hairline, for one. She put down the weapons on the table as Sloane closed the door.  

            "You owe me five pounds, Sloane," Vicky said, glancing at her friend. "I was right." 

            "Forgive the lateness. We had some trouble with the weapons," she told them, striding to where the table lay filled with both conventional weapons and some that looked really exotic. 

            "What is all this for?" Nemo finally asked, as Jekyll, Tom and Skinner were the first to venture closer to the table. Sloane's eyes hardened.

            "The battle ahead." 

            "Explain," Allan said. Sloane sighed and sank into a nearby chair as Vicky took a seat next to the vampire. Following their lead, the rest of the League sat down, Jekyll having to move his seat back a bit so as not to get skewered by a sword. 

                                                                                    *          *          *

            "What's that mean?" Skinner asked. Sloane and Vicky had taken turns explaining what it was that Edin had told them. 

            Vicky sighed. "It means that this fight — it's not just limited to your children any more. It should have been contained within the magickal species, at most, but with this...."

            "What she means," Sloane told them, "is that this war is no longer restricted to the Alliance and this man. It has spread beyond these borders, spilled out into the real world — if he succeeds." 

            "Who is this 'he'?" Tom asked. All through the mission, the baddie had always been 'he' and there was no mention of his name. Vicky swallowed. 

            "His name is — " Sloane began. A sharp shout from Vicky silenced her, and they began to argue furiously in Elvish, half of which Skinner didn't understand, until he realized that they were mixing the Old Tongue with the more modern version Vicky had taught him. 

            "Mankoi lle uma tanya?!" Vicky asked. Skinner's mind instantly began translating. Vicky then said something in Old Tongue that he didn't understand. 

"Amin uuma malia, Vicky," Sloane retorted. "Amin dele ten' sen."

            "Mani _nae lle umien? Amin caele beika fion!"_

            "Dina. Amin caela noa." She said something in Old Tongue, ending her sentence as she shot Vicky a glare. 

            "Mankoi, Sloane, mankoi? (#1)" Vicky asked, then softly, "Aren't you scared?" 

            Sloane held her friend's concerned and scared gaze for a moment, then said firmly. "No." 

            Allan and Nemo looked at her expectedly. And Skinner gave Vicky a glance. He had not known or thought that Vicky Attenbrough would be scared of anything, much less a name. 

            "His name is Nathan Jamison. He's from America, come to England a few years before. A year after his arrival, he began the war that many of the species are still recovering from. He is more commonly known as the Dark Lord," Sloane glanced at her friend. Vicky looked around in fear before settling deeper into her chair, trying to hide from the fear that gripped her. She muttered a prayer in elvish, one to ward off bad luck. 

            "Don't mind me asking," Jekyll said, "But I'm curious. How was the war worn by the Alliance?"

            "The Crusaders," Vicky said, as if the word were magick and the glint came back to her eyes as she sat up. "The Crusaders were formed. At first they were an elite task force, made up of three humans, an elf, an Aclida, and a vampire, but then they saw the need for extreme action and so ventured into his territory. They got to where his headquarters was, destroyed the source of his power, leaving him a mere human." 

            "Among the Crusaders is Vicky's grandparents, as is Crow's and Sierra's," Sloane supplied.

            "And the vampire?" asked Dorian. "What about him?"

            "My sire." A pause from the beautiful vampire, then, "But we know what he is up to; we can yet stop him."

            "And how'd you propose to do that?" Tom asked. He was a natural-born optimist, but even these odds were making it look very unlikely they'd succeed. 

            "I have a plan." 

* * *

            Vicky stood at the railing, looking out at the breath-taking ocean. There was no land in sight, and there would be none for a few more hours. She sighed, and remembered how Sloane had said _the _name. Of all names, his was the one she had to say. The name of the Dark Lord still inspired terror in her; after the incident that had scarred her for life. She closed her eyes.

            _There was blood everywhere. He had slaughtered her mother. She stood there, in her night-clothes, soaked to the bone with the blood of her beloved Mama. She held her doll, Elsa-Marie, in one hand, forgotten as she watched with wide eyes his departure. He was smirking, his hands stained with the thick, crimson liquid. She stood there for an hour, and then she realized, the memory dredged up from her six-year-old mind, that Daddy wasn't coming home early that night. She would be alone, with the corpse of her mother in the apartment with her. Fear gripped her heart, squeezed it so hard she thought she felt it burst, just like when He had ripped the still-beating heart from her mother's chest, when the screams abruptly silenced, and squeezed. He kept on going until it popped, a mass of red, thick blood over his hands. She screamed, and ran. She fell in her mother's blood, scrambled to find purchase on the wet floor. She slipped into intestines and liver; she felt herself losing control, crying, screaming, wanting to get out. She managed to scramble to her feet, running, then tripped over the body and felt organs slide beneath her hands as she braced herself from the fall...._

            "Why are you so afraid?" 

            The sentence jerked her out of the terrifying memory and she nearly fell over the railing in her shock, but managed to regain her balance in time and turned. Mina stood some ways behind her, the wind whipping her auburn hair and crimson scarf over her shoulder. 

            Vicky turned, feigning unknowing-ness. "What are you talking about?"

            "I saw you at the meeting when Sloane mentioned him." Mina noticed that the Aseyewrn visibly flinched. "You were scared. More scared than I thought possible for a woman in your capacity."

            Vicky gave a small smile. "You, Mrs. Gray, should know better than most what a past can do to one." 

            Mina stiffened, but persisted. "Why?" Vicky sighed and looked at her, straight in the eye.  

            "From a tragic event at the beginning of my childhood," Vicky joked, her smile real to anyone who had little or no experience in reading lies. Mina knew that it was exactly that. A tragedy at the beginning of Vicky's childhood; what, she didn't know, and was respectful enough of Vicky's privacy not to probe too far in. 

            "I just hope it's not bothering you so much," Mina said, joining the young woman at the railing, "that we will not be able to carry out Sloane's plan."

            Vicky looked mildly offended. "Rest assured, Mrs. Gray, that I'll do my part. I may be the youngest here, but I can do this."

            Mina studied the girl, just out from her teens. _Early twenties, maybe_, Mina thought. _A mere babe compared to me or Dorian. _

"You are indeed good in your own standing," Mina smiled. Vicky looked surprised at the small curvature at the corner of Mina's full lips. "You managed to bring back Sloane."

            "But not Jesse or the others," Vicky added quietly. "If we had them, this would all be different. The battle would've ended in Venice." 

            Vicky sighed, then left, returning to her cabin below. Mina watched her retreating form, the wings of an angel and the history of a rogue. Suddenly, a very concerned thought hit her. 

_            Is she up to the task? _

* * *

(#1) For our non-Elvish speaking readers, the exchange between Vicky and Sloane is below. As some LOTR fans may know, this is the same language that that genius Tolkien invented. 

**Vicky:** Why did you do that?

**Sloane**: I don't care, Vicky. I'm worried about them.

**Vicky:** What _have you been doing? I think you've had too much ale!_

**Sloane:** Be silent. I have an idea.

**Vicky:** Why, Sloane, why? 


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: Just to let you know, I have added a page on my website that deals with character profiles of Jesse and co. If you want some insight to the five of them, I suggest you go check them out. The link to my site is on my bio page. Do leave a comment in the guestbook, either on this story or on the site. Thanks! Enjoy the story, and, as most of my cherished readers are intelligent beings and not blobs on the surface on this planet, you will no doubt notice that this journey is drawing to an end. This chapter will likely be one of the last of "Children".  

**lissa** james: **sad to say, I know only a few words in elvish. I used one of the many sites on the wonderful thing called the Internet to aid me in my writing; just use Yahoo or MSN or something to search for elvish words/phrases, and you should have no problem. And, 'cuse me for saying it, but I think you're the only one who is actually happy about me killing off my beloved characters, save for two. **

**Clez****: call me stupid and sadistic, but I'm not sure which flashback you're talking about. Saying that you're scared of me (yay!) is one of the nicest compliments you could give me. It shows that I thoroughly scared my readers to the bone. Heh. I live for that. [By the way, how did you manage to put the url to your freewebs.com site in your bio? I use freewebs too, but I can't seem to get the link it right.]  **

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

            Skinner ran across the battlefield, dodging Fightening spells not meant for him, trying to move as silently as possible. He was invisible, but he had learned quickly that some of the Orcs they were fighting knew where he was; how, he didn't know, nor was he in mood to find out how.

            Sloane and Vicky had given Nemo co-ordinates, and they had docked just off the coast of Norway. After scaling a mountain in temperatures cold enough to freeze molten lava, Sloane had opened a portal in one of the caves, which had transported them to...somewhere.  Skinner figured it was somewhere else in a different dimension, but he wasn't about to venture any guesses. 

            The sky was blue, the grass was green, and the Orcs were there. 

            They were on a massive field; more of a plane, surrounded by nothing but grass. There were some rocks in the distance; further back, mere smudges of black to a human eye,  there was a ridge of mountains. They were called the Guardians of the Horizon, and when the sun set or rose, it was a breathtaking sight. On the other side, there was a wide gap between the fields and another similar one. The chasm was big, about thirteen and a half feet across and fifty feet high. A river ran through the bottom of the  chasm, but it was fast-moving and there were jagged rocks both hidden and visible.  The cliff edge itself had many dangers; if one fell, it was more than likely that he would be killed on the way down. If not, then the rocks below would shatter his bones. 

            On the opposite side of the chasm, a few kilometers off, there was a fortress, surrounded by a high wall and so many orcs that they were this wall of black.    The grass was no longer green. It was slicked black with orc blood. The battle had raged — League against monster — until they had come to the edge of the cliff and the area around it. Tom had abandoned the original use of his Winschester and was swinging it around, hacking the heads of the Orcs. It was actually quite effective.

            Mina, meanwhile, was bloodthirsty and savage. Orc blood was black, and not to her liking. Some had gotten on her lip, and Mina had tasted a little of it. It tasted like rotten eggs and spoiled milk mixed together. Sloane had warned her not to drink, because the effects were unknown, and Mina didn't want to, anyway.

            Dorian and Nemo were having lots of success as they beheaded and killed dozens of orcs with skill, finesse and weapon. Dorian, especially, looked like he was having fun as he slashed, stabbed and slew. Nemo was a mere blur of blue, black and white as he put his skill in the martial arts to good use.  

            Sloane had cast a spell to ensure she would not burn in the sunlight. After using her vampiric attributes, she had switched to Fightening spells to wipe out dozens of orcs at one go. Allan was next to her, protecting her close-range, the one weakness she had. She had enchanted his gun so that he wouldn't run out of bullets, and he took advantage of that, firing at the orcs who were able to come close enough.

            Hyde was on the rampage, a huge beast amongst the orcs. Their spears, clubs, and other various weaponry hurt him, but it only made him more enraged, and he took it out on them, ripping bodies apart, scattering blood everywhere. He didn't seem to mind, though; he was too busy enjoying his time. If Jekyll let him out more times, he would have a say again, which was something he was dearly hoping for. Hyde didn't like to admit it, but Jekyll's will was strong. Strong enough to suppress him. 

            Skinner, meanwhile, was busy fending off orcs with a sword he had picked up from one of the fallen combatants. Vicky flew ahead, swooping down every minute or so to slash at the orcs who came at Skinner with her twin swords, short and engraved with elvish runes. She had finished her firecocks, small portable Molotov cocktails that exploded with more force than anything in that time, some time ago. 

            The League and their two allies were vicious; no mercy was given, no orc spared. Vicky finally landed as they regrouped, sweat shining off her brow as Sloane led them off in a run. They had to get to that fortress; the children were there. 

            "I thought you said orcs couldn't come out in sunlight!" Tom said, catching up to the fast Sloane.

            "Not in this dimension," Sloane replied. "This is no ordinary place; this is a new dimension altogether. Not all the rules of our world apply here." 

            "Sloane, look!" Vicky yelled from above. The vampire glanced upwards, and followed Vicky's pointing finger and gasped. Ahead, near the edge of the cliff, were horses. Beautiful stallions, ranging from white to various shades of brown, black and gray. By the looks of it, the single black horse was the leader of the pack. There were reins already in place, and Sloane glanced at Hyde. He would be able to leap the distance easily enough. 

            Sensing their arrival, the horses trotted towards them. There were five horses; Vicky didn't need one, nor did Hyde to cross. Sloane was quick in choosing the black horse, jumping in it and reining it in.

            "Get on, and hurry; we have no time," she ordered. "The eclipse is in forty minutes."

            The Dark Lord's plan was one of great promise; he intended to raise the Gods of Old. The Gods were the stuff of legend, the creators and rulers of Earth. They were buried deep in myth and forgotten over the ages. He needed a eclipse, once thought to be the work of the Gods by the first elves, humans and other species. An eclipse was scheduled within the next forty minutes, and in order to stop the children from being adults, they had to get them out of the enchanted fortress before the Dark Lord had time to initiate the final phase of the spell. 

            Once those who could ride the horses were mounted, Skinner having some trouble with his, Sloane reared the horse back a little. The League watched in amazement as the horse leapt over the gap easily. All five riders made it across easily, and Hyde jumped the distance last. Sloane raised the sword she had been carrying as she turned the horse around, to face the orcs intent on killing them. 

            Hundreds of orcs against nine determined warriors. 

            "And so the game begins," Allan whispered. 

* * *

        The labyrinth were barely lit, filthy, and smelled of fusty air that had obviously not moved in decades. Moss and other plants of magickal origin clung to the wall, like strong glue to a piece of paper. On the ground, once stone but now half-covered with dirt and mud, there were puddles of brown water. All manners of decidedly disgusting things were scurrying across the ground and sometimes, even swimming in the puddles of varying depth, all filled with the rash of the fortress and the 'city' of orcs above. The roof, at least, seemed to be steady enough. They wouldn't have to worry about it collapsing on their heads. 

            Skinner, Tom and Dorian ran through the narrow passageway, looking for the source of he Dark Lord's power. After the bloody battle against the orcs guarding the fortress, they had breached the outer wall and split up to find the children and the source of the Dark Lord's power. The muck was disgusting, even more so to Skinner, who was noticeably bare-footed. 

            Dorian didn't seem to mind, and Tom was equally ignorant to the muck spattering the hem of his pants and his shoes. Dorian was in the lead, sword at ready. So far, they hadn't ran into any orcs, and Tom prayed that they wouldn't. His gun had been reloaded and enchanted by a grateful Vicky. Skinner, however, held the sword he had picked up earlier. He had gotten pretty good at using it, and now he knew where to cut and stab for best effect.

            There was a splitting of the corridor, in the shape of a trident. Glancing at each other, in silent agreement, Dorian took the one on the left, Tom the middle and Skinner the right one. 

Tom was at a full-fledged run. His Winchester was battered, but still intact. The weight of an extra sword in the baldric slung across his back was comforting. As he ran further down the corridor, he realized that the walls on either side of him had wisteria growing on them unchecked. Some of the twisted branches and leaves resembled faces, open-mouthed and screaming, twisted in various visages of agony and suffering. Tom suppressed a shudder. _It's my imagination working overtime, he thought. __This whole day has been freaky. After this, I'm taking a holiday.  He ran for a few more minutes, trying his best to ignore the faces he imagined watching him. He reached a dead end, and turned. His eyes widened and he didn't have time to utter a curse as the demons, the faces in the walls, lunged for him. _

            Dorian moved quickly but cautiously, his deadly sword at ready. He alternated between a jog and a walk. In this battle, he had much to lose. His life, for example. He healed much slower than usual, in this dimension. He had taken a cut on his forehead from one of the orcs about four minutes ago, before he and the other two men had come down here. Only now was it healing over. It would take a few more minutes for it to completely heal. If he sustained a slash to the throat or a stab to his heart, it was more than likely he would die before it completely healed. Mina was somewhere up above ground, with Allan and Hyde. Nemo had paired up with Sloane, while Vicky flew alone. Dorian stopped in his tracks. In front of him was a huge gryphon, with the body of an lion but the head and wings of an eagle. It stood at about ten feet tall, the tips of its wings brushing against the ceiling. It saw him and gave a ear-piercing shriek. Dorian threw himself into battle.

            Skinner judged the time left to the eclipse. _Seven minutes, _he thought. His pace was a jog, which was fast enough for him to move without sacrificing his security. It was a mere estimation, since he didn't have a watch. _I have to hurry. _He kept jogging, and then he noticed that there was a light shining on the wall of a bend some ways in front of him. He stopped, opting to move slowly. He didn't want to walk into a trap. As he got closer, he pressed himself to the wall, ignoring the uncomfortable squishing of the moss against his back. Slowly, he ascended a flight of stairs that the bend gave way to. At the top, there was a source of light somewhere.

            The sword, floating in mid-air to anyone who didn't know about his gift, was the only marker of his presence. 

            He came to the landing and drew back into the shadows of the stairway, forgetting for a moment that he was invisible. He saw Sloane, Mina and Hyde, doing battle with close to fifty orcs. Skinner immediately knew that something important was in the chamber beyond the fighting. To his left was a pair of sprawling oak doors. Sloane glanced in his direction as she used her sword to block an attack of an orc. A subtle head jerk towards the doors sent him running. A screech for high above drew his attention. He looked up, and saw Vicky circling like a vulture, before swooping down and bulldozing her way through a rabble of big orcs. They fell and Mina made fast work of them.  

            Skinner dashed by a roaring Hyde, dodging a fang-baring Mina. Vicky saw the sword he carried, and followed his progress, making sure that some of the orcs that came his way tasted the steel of her twin swords. Skinner finally reached the doors and he pushed an overzealous orc off him with a grunt of effort. Vicky landed, full of grace, and drove one of her sword through the orc's skull. 

            "Open the doors," she told him. "Be quick about it. I can only cover you for so long." Sweat beaded her brow, and made her bronze skin shiny. She turned to ward off the orcs. Skinner gave a quick nod and proceeded to pick the big lock when he remembered that he didn't have his tools. Just then, he noticed a sword fragment nearby. It was in a rough triangle, one side blunted, the other thin and small enough to fit into the keyhole in front of him. He picked it up and was careful not to cut his fingers as he carefully unlocked the doors. A soft _click _and he knew his job was done. 

            "Vic — "

            He didn't get to finish his sentence, because Vicky came flying towards him from a blow one of the orcs dealt her. They crashed into the sprawling room, the doors having knocked both of them unconscious had they not been unlocked. They landed in a heap inside the room. From under Vicky's armpit Skinner saw the orcs try to enter the room, but an invisible shield stopped them from coming in. A charm blocked their progress.   

            Vicky and him untangled themselves, and they stood up. The other end of the room was in darkness, and the sounds of the battle raging outside was very muted, to the point where it was non-existent. They spread out. Skinner moved slowly to the Aseyewrn's right. She kept still, not moving. He figured that it was her plan, so he didn't question it. 

            The other end of the room suddenly lighted up with the soft rays of torches set into wall mounts, revealing the man who set on a massive throne. 

            Vicky's eyes widened in sheer terror.  


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: Ladies and gentlemen, blobs and hotdogs, Chapter 12 is here. Just to let you know, this will be one of the last 5 or so chapters. Don't kill me; hopefully, you will like it lots. And, everybody, you _have to thank elysian shades, my temporary beta and good friend! She was the one who helped me out here when I was having serious writer's block. Without her, this chapter and the others after it would not have been possible. Do go and read her fics one of these days; I'm not saying this because I'm a friend, but, really, she is _good. __

* * *

**CHAPTER 12**

            _He sat on the throne, watching her with eyes that gleamed evil. Vicky was paralyzed; the memory of that night came rushing back to her, the pain, the anger, and the trepidation came back, hitting her full force. She remembered the nightmares, his face looming in front of her, laughing and smirking, ripping her mother apart._

            "So you came," he said, rising from the throne on which he sat. It was craved out of a single piece of red quartz. It seemed to pulse with energy, a strong wave of oppression emitted from within its depths. The Dark Lord himself was huge; bigger than any man could possibly be. He stood at nearly seven feet high, and was four and a half feet across. He wore a mask, and Skinner thought absently, _Masks are obviously part of the fashion code for baddies these days. The mask was a black metal, designed so that he looked terrifying. Even Skinner, who had nothing to do with this man prior, felt a chill run through his body. _

            The invisible man was hidden in the shadows; he prayed that the Dark Lord had not seen the sword. That was the least of his concerns. Vicky, meanwhile, was the top of the list. She just stood there, twin blades abandoned. She took deep breaths, the terror in her eyes visible. She looked so weak, so helpless, so much like a child during a thunderstorm. Skinner was growing more concerned by the minute as the Dark Lord advanced. 

            "I remember you," the evil man said, his deep, booming voice echoing throughout the chamber. As he said that, the doors slammed shut behind Vicky. Skinner's heart skipped a beat when the deafening _bang _and a very loud _click _as it was locked sounded. "I killed your mother, the _affati. Many years ago." A pause, then, "She fought hard." _

            Vicky swallowed. He came to a stop about thirty feet from her. Skinner resisted the urge to shout out her name. 

            "You brought a friend with you." At that, the Dark Lord looked at Skinner's direction and the thief flinched, a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. The Dark Lord then turned to look at Vicky, who was shaking in mute horror. "And so he shall see you die."

            With that, he raised his right hand, palm up. A bolt of white energy erupted from his palm, drawing ions from the surrounding air, gathering deadliness as it progress closer to Vicky. She didn't move. 

            "Vicky!" Skinner yelled.

            He ran, knowing she was too scared of the Dark Lord to do anything. Something seemed to happen to his sense of passing time; it slowed significantly until everything was moving so slowly.

_            The bolt of deadly energy passed through the air, moving ever closer to his love...._

_            Skinner ran towards Vicky, unmoving, too terrified to move..._

_            He leapt..._

_            The bolt came nearer..._

_            His fingertips touched Vicky..._

_            The bolt came closer; he could smell the ionized air..._

_            He pushed Vicky away, using his body weight to move her..._

_            A searing pain in his chest..._

_            They hit the ground together..._

"Skinner!" Vicky cried as she struggled to get up. She managed to do so in some aspects, enough to cradle his head in her hands as his body rested against her thigh. "Oh, god, Skinner, no..." He had been hit by the bolt of energy meant for her; the result, his soon-to-be death. His breathing was laboured, coming out in short, shallow gasps. 

            Slowly, he became visible. Vicky used to her wings to shield him, wrapping them around him. Instinct took over most of her bodily functions, but her mind was swirling, turning and tumbling like clothes in a washing machine, trying to grasp the situation. She cradled his head, regret washing over her. Tears brimmed at the edges of her amber eyes; she knew how powerful that bolt was. No mortal man would be able to survive it.  

            He grimaced at the pain. Everything around him was beginning to fade, slowly but surely. Vicky's face, anguish painted into her beautiful features, was above him, and he relished the sight. With a start, he knew he was dying. He felt no pain, the searing pain from moments before having become a dull ache that was spreading through his body, making him feel bone-tired, weak and longing for a nice, warm bed to fall asleep in. 

            But, no. Not yet. 

            He was dying. He had to tell Vicky, the woman he had fallen for, what he needed to say. He lifted a hand, and she clasped it, the tears falling. 

            "Your mother...?" he managed to gasp. He still had time left; not much, but he was determined to use it properly. After the incident with the flame-bearer in the factory, back in Mongolia, he had thought he was going to die; he regretted not being able to say what he had wanted to say to Mina, his confession of love to her. 

            The tears ran freely from Vicky's eyes — eyes that he had grown to love. "I lied to you," she said, through her grief and tears, holding back a sob. "I lied to you. He killed my mother." She trembled. "I watched him do it...I was six years old...God, Rodney, I'm so sorry...I lied to you..." 

            She began to openly sob. He squeezed her hand, the closest thing to comfort he could give her. He let her cry, head bowed, for a few minutes. She looked up at him when he murmured her name, her lower lip trembling, watching as he slipped away, inch by inch, from the light called Life. 

            "Vicky," he managed. Gosh. He wanted to sleep; but he fought off the darkness that he saw approaching from behind Vicky. "I didn't get...to tell you earlier...but...I care. I...care about you....I love you."  

            She couldn't say how grateful to him she was; couldn't find the words, because she knew he was dying, slipping away. She felt responsible, and she knew she was. She sniffed and he let out a weak grin. 

            "I swear to you now, Rodney," she whispered, finally. "He killed my mother; took my friends, took my only family from me. But I swear, with the gods as witnesses, that I won't let him take you away." The firm set of her jaw was echoed when she put down his hand, setting him gently on the cold stone floor. He saw the fire, lit up once again, in her eyes. Before she stood up, she paused, saying, "I won't let him."

            With that, she planted a soft, tender kiss on his lips. She lingering for a moment, tasting him, knowing that she would not have another chance. 

            She stood up. Skinner found himself thinking how nice her lips were, how undemanding and welcoming they felt. And also how comfortable the floor was, it pressing against his back. It was cool, and hard. He liked it. He wanted to sleep, but Lizzy's face flashed through his mind, followed by snippets of the times they had together. After that, within the space of a second, it was Vicky's turn. A movie in his mind, full of her face, her grin, and her laugh. Then it turned into a movie of the times that they could have — Lizzy, himself and the Aseyewrn running around the park in summer, the flowers a riot of blooms; in spring, attempting to bake cookies that taste like road-side gravel; in autumn, clearing out the leaves, but instead having fun in the piles of brown and orange foliage; in winter, making snow angels and having snowball fights...

            _Elizabeth__._

_            My daughter. _

_            Vicky._

_            My love. _   

            Skinner struggled to keep awake. He had to. He would not let down the two females in his life. He managed to turn his head, so that his cheek was pressed against the cold stone ground. He could see the back of Vicky's heels as she stepped over him and guarded his limps and dying self. And, if he adjusted his focus, he could see the bottom half of the Dark Lord's face.

            Vicky stood. She would not let him do that to her; he had taken too much already. She fought her overwhelming fear down; righteous anger and grief filled her very essence with power. The fear might set in later; but then the battle would been done, and she would either be dead or alive.

            "This is where it ends," the Dark Lord said. "He will die, and you with him."

            Vicky gritted her teeth in anger, willing herself to think rationally, as the Dark Lord drew a saber, it's blade a stream of fire. "Try me." 

            A powerful flap of her wings sent her soaring into the air.

            Skinner watched, eyelids drooping. He heard Hyde ramming his shoulder into the door, but it held fast; the battle outside was over. 

            The one inside was just beginning. 

            A war cry, almost forgotten after the Great War, heralded the clash of steel against steel. 

            Hyde's roar of frustration. 

            Only one would make it out alive.

            Mina's muffled shouts.

            Only one would be triumphant.

            The clanging of the padlock against the oak doors.

            The victor would determine the fate of the world.

            Skinner could only hope that Good would be the ultimate winner.  


	14. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13 **

            Sloane swore. 

            She watched as Hyde tried to smash the padlock, so they could open the doors to the chamber and help Vicky and Skinner. Nemo had caught a glimpse of the Dark Lord, just before the doors had rammed shut and his attention had been averted by a group of enraged orcs who were determined to have his entails for lunch.

            The unflappable Indian captain had felt a icy finger trail up his spine; he could feel the man's malignant aura from outside the room.

            Allan came running from the archway that the first group of combatants had entered from. He held his Winchester in both hands, and picked his way through the bodies of the dead orcs. "What happened here?"

            "A fight," Sloane answered. "And Skinner and Vicky are in here. We need to get the padlock open."

            "Let me do it," Allan said. He reached them and Hyde scowled, but stepped aside. "Do you have a pin?" Mina and Nemo looked at Sloane, who pulled out from her hair a bobby pin. Nemo raised both brows, amused. Allan propped Matilda against the wall as he opened the lock with deft wiggling of the pin inside the keyhole. Allan grabbed his gun, and at his signal, they entered the room, only to stopped short by a charm just after they stepped past the threshold.

            "What is this?" Nemo asked. Sloane's brow was furrowed in concentration. 

            "Charm. I can reverse it, but that'll take time." 

            "Do it," Allan ordered. "And look!" 

            They turned. Vicky was exchanging powerful blows with the Dark Lord; Sloane felt revulsion swell up in her and redoubled her efforts to reverse the charm the blocked them. She knew Vicky much better than Vicky knew herself; the Aseyewrn was strong, but she would not last up long against him. Sloane began to sketch arcane symbols in the air with her forefinger. They appeared as smoke and stayed there. Sloane then started to cast the spell, keeping one eye on the situation. The charm used to block their entry was an ancient one, powerful and somewhat violate. If Vicky's condition failed, Sloane was willing to use much more powerful magicks to destroy the charm entirely; it was a major risk, but Sloane was willing to do it.

            Vicky was tiring; Nemo could see it in her stance, the slight droop of her wings. It became apparent to him that they had been at it for some time. He surveyed the room and saw the back of Skinner's head. Mina followed his gaze and her eyes widened. 

            "Skinner!"  

            With another cry of war, Vicky swooped down on the man who had ruined her life, the subject of her nightmares for two decades. Her twin blades were deadly in her skilled hands, and she slashed, but he brought his saber down against her weapons. While she was pushed down by his sheer strength, he twisted and rammed his elbow down on the small area of exposed skin between the part where her wings sprouted, shattering the bone that connected them both, rendering them useless. 

            If she had not been so tired, she might have been able to twist around and slice off his arm.

            Vicky screamed, and followed through with a fall on her belly. The pain was horrible; her whole back was on dipped in lava. Her wings were aflame. She writhed on the ground as she was kicked onto her back, which only made the agonizing pain worse. He raised the saber with both hands, above her writhing form, preparing to drive it through her chest. 

            _Vicky..._

Somewhere, in Skinner's consciousness, something lit up. He was falling asleep, and staying awake was getting harder by the minute. He watched the fight, helpless to do anything. 

            And then the Dark Lord overpowered her, the saber poised for a killing blow. The blade moved downwards...

            Skinner struggled to move; he had to help her, to stop him....The darkness was there. It was claiming him; eternal sleep and bliss. Skinner fought hard. He was numb all over. Finally, he got his jaw to move, his vocal chords to work in a whisper as his fingers twitched. 

            "Vicky..."

            Allan cursed. "Sloane, hurry!"

            Sloane gritted her teeth and muttered a spell; the charm before them shattered like a glass vase hitting the ground. Shards of it exploded outward, but then it slowed, nearly freezing in their motion. The room darkened, leaving them in pitch darkness as the torches were put out by a strong gust of wind.   

            The eclipse had started. 

            Allan started forward in the darkness, but his lower body was stopped by half of the charm, not fully broken. Eclipses were the bane of the existence of anyone who practiced magick; they wrecked havoc on spells, causing to them to halt, then resume after the eclipse is over. Allan could move his head and upper extremities, but he had no such luck for the lower half of his body. Inwardly, he swore.

            There was a sickening sound, a sound of a sword being driven through flesh. 

            There was a strangled cry.

            Vicky's screams were no more. 


	15. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

Sloane closed her eyes, looked away from where the battle had ended. She couldn't bear to see Vicky's dead corpse; the last woman who had been her friend. Gradually, the eclipse ended and sunlight filled the place once more. The torches were re-lit by themselves. Allan let out a cry of surprise. Sloane's eyes flew open and she just stared.  

            Vicky, on the ground, barely conscious. 

            The Dark Lord, standing over her. 

            With a sword lodged in his skull. 

            Skinner stood behind him, struggling to stand straight. 

            The Dark Lord turned to look at Skinner and the Dark Lord's arm shot out, recasting the charm to stop the five of them from advancing. Hyde tried to move forward, but hit the barrier charm instead. Sloane tried to dissipate it entirely, but that didn't work.  

            "He's not dead?!" Nemo said. In all his years of seeing unexplained events and creatures, this was way out of his experience. Dorian he could understand, but this...It was not possible. Way out his league. 

            "He can't die," Sloane muttered in disbelief. "Not until we destroy his source of power."  

            Skinner stumbled, falling on his backside and looking very, very tried as he scrambled backwards, using his hands and feet. The Dark Lord approached him, menacing and deadly. It would have been a hilarious sight, with the sword rammed in from the top of his head. Sloane, inwardly, saluted Skinner. He had just done something that even she would no have the courage to do. 

            Too bad it was for naught.

            Skinner tried to scramble back, but he had no more strength. Somehow, he had stood up, spurred into action by his love for Vicky and his determination to see Lizzy one more time. His original sword was nearby; by sheer feat of will, he had reached for it, stood up, dashed to where he stood behind the Dark Lord, and brought the sword down with what strength he had left.        

            He knew he was a dead man when the Dark Lord hadn't fallen. 

            Then, the unbelievable happened. 

            An arrow whistled through the air, cracking the red quartz throne on impact, and Skinner's line of blurring sight immediately shot to where the arrow had been fired. They widened, and for a moment, he thought he was finally insane.

            Crow stood there, inside the barrier of the charm, arrow just fired. He wasn't in color; only a faded gray. Then somebody threw a bladestar at the throne. 

            Immediately after the crack appeared in the side of the throne, the Dark Lord cried out in agony. Another bladestar was thrown, and Skinner shifted his line of sight. Sierra was on the other side of the room. She drew from a pouch at her waist more bladestars; she flung them with expertise, indicating she was familiar with the weapon. 

            Vicky had been struggling to get up. The pain was killing her, but she had to help. She had to. Then she turned her head. Jesse stood behind her, on the left. The late Lady Heathrow was forming a little orange ball of fire in her arms, whispering the spell. With a flourish, she gathered them up in her right hand and made a sweeping gesture, throwing the ball of fire outwards and it raced towards its target, hitting it and cracking it more as Jesse let loose another one.

            All the while, the Dark Lord tried to retaliate, to fight back; he threw balls of fire, ice and other stuff, but somehow, they would always go wide, hitting the walls instead of the spirits of Crow, Jesse and Sierra, even when they seemed intent on their targets. They would just fly wide, as if some invisible force was protecting the spirits.

            _Revenge for their deaths, Mina reasoned. She glanced at Sloane, who seemed to be at a loss as to what was happening. _

            "What is this?" Nemo asked. Even the usually-unflappable captain was having trouble believing his eyes.

            "I don't know," Sloane admitted. "I have never seen anything like this...The throne is his power source!" 

            _We can only watch, Mina thought, turning back to see what that was unfolding before them. Slowly, second by second, the Dark Lord was shrinking. When he was once nearly seven feet, he was quickly shrinking as the quartz throne began to buckle under the assault. _

            Crow let fly an arrow. 

            The throne shattered, unable to take the barrage of spells and  weaponry. 

            A flash of bright white light that caused them to raise their hands, to cover their eyes.

            When that faded, the man who was formerly the Dark Lord was a little over five feet tall, and he just stood there, like a statue. Skinner took that opportunity to scramble out of the way, taking care to fight the darkness that drew ever closer.

            The Dark Lord — now a mere man.

            He toppled forward, the sword in his head killing him instantly.

            Sloane barely cast a glance at his dead form as the others rushed forward to help both Vicky and Skinner. She looked at the three spirits who had helped so much. They had gathered, in a line, and she watched.

            Crow was at one end; he gave a small smile; she could hear what he would have said — a line came from the many conversations they had had. "_Take care." _

Jesse stood in the middle, smiling. _"Victory is to those who try, even if the odds are against them."_

            Sloane's gaze turned to Sierra, who was grinning a sad smile. _"Don't mourn the passing, but always celebrate the beginning."_

Sloane swallowed her grief as they vanished, and Dorian and Tom entered at the same time. 

            "What happened here?" Tom asked, covered in black blood. He had finally taken care of the demons. "What did I miss? Woah."

            Dorian was using his kerchief to wipe off the gryphon's blood off his face. "Indeed. Seems to have been quite a fight." Nemo and Mina helped Vicky up, Mina checking her vitals. Hyde exited the room, and came back within a minute as Jekyll. Sloane went over to Skinner.

            She was about to say something when her attention was taken by the group who ventured out from behind the throne, hidden by the massive drape that had a large cage behind. 

            They were a motley crew; the oldest, close to fifteen, the youngest looking to be only ten months old. The fifteen year old had hazel eyes and hair, looking around. The ten-month-old he carried was gurgling, bouncing up and down, his floppy ginger locks flapping as he clapped his hands. Beside the older boy was an Indian ten-year-old, with keen jet-black eyes and ebony hair. Behind them were three girls; one had hair the color of muted fire, and green eyes; another, midnight hair and raven eyes, and the last, a blond-haired, blue eyed child. 

            The crew saw them. The three girls were the first to run to their parents. 

            "Daddy! Mummy!" little Lucy Gray cried as her mother caught her and embraced her, the tension melting away. Dorian came to squat next to them, and he was smiling; ruffling Lucy's dark hair. 

            "Uncle Tom!" Alice Finn ran forward and Tom caught her, swinging her around, laughing away. It was the first time he had seen Alice and been happy. 

            "Daddy!" Lizzy Skinner dashed to her father, more like a cannonball of energy, and Skinner jerked back from the force, nearly fainting in the process. "Daddy!" He buried his face in her shoulder, and tears came to his eyes. The three boys came up to the League. Allan immediately recognized Will; the boy was as handsome as his father. 

            "Dr. Jekyll?" Will asked. Jekyll looked at him as Will handed him Noah. "Your son, sir." As in response, Noah gurgled and said "Da-ddy" as Jekyll took him, gratefully. 

            Allan grabbed his grandson and hugged him. "By all saints, Will, you're taller than me!" Will laughed.

            Nemo had stood up, and Ajit,   now twelve, stood in front of him. He could scarcely contain his joy; it had been too long since he had seen his uncle, the primary father figure in his life. 

            "You have grown," Nemo said in Hindi. He raised an amused brow. "And grown much you have." He opened his arms and Ajit grinned as he embraced his uncle. Sloane held Vicky up. 

            "Sweet reunion, eh?" Vicky said, in elvish. She smiled weakly, then passed out from the pain, knowing that a few people were shouting Skinner's name at the same time. 

* * *

A/N: So. Vicky didn't die! Wahoo! Well, for this chapter's Answer-To-The-Reviewers part, I've opted to answer a few reviews from the last two or three chapters as well. 

**Graymoon74: **Heh. Never believe a writer on a sugar high. Thanks for saying that that was a touching scene between Skinner and Vicky; I worked hard on that. Re-wrote it three times, that one. And yes, I do love to kill things....a few classmates and a certain tuition teacher of mine are my main focus. Now, where did I put that chainsaw? 

**Clez****: thank you for the info for the webbies. And, I hope you didn't fall over that cliff before this was posted...it'd be a tragedy, no? **

**LotRseer3350: **what, me, influence from LotR? Oh, I would _never do that...*feigns innocence*_


	16. Chapter 15

A/N: Two words. Braces suck.

_

* * *

_

**CHAPTER 15**

_He was under the ocean, drifting aimlessly around, in a state of bliss. He was tired, and he took solace in the fact that nothing could touch him, here. _

_            All was peaceful._

_            When he first came here, he had struggled. Now, that was no more. He knew he couldn't get out, and eventually, he had surrendered to the ever-changing currents, letting them take him wherever they wished. He had found out that it was nice; no more troubles, the world he had once belonged to became irrelevant. All that was was his ocean. His peaceful, beautiful  ocean that no once except him could enter. _

_            There had been times when a voice, distorted, would speak to him. _

_            He would listen; why, he did not know, nor did he care. All he knew that whenever that voice — a female's — spoke to him, he felt this strange stirring of feelings inside, something like affection, foreign to him in this state. For some time now, the voice had not spoken to him. There still was a voice, but it was different, less frequent. The first voice would speak to him at regular times, and he had grown to enjoy that voice._

_            The voice would tell him of strange things; about a thing that could fly without wings but propelled by something called an "engine", about a person called Lizzy, about a white frost, about the weather, the date, and the day. _

_            The new voice would tell him about the day's weather, just like the first one, and other things — things that he did not long to hear. He wanted to listen to that first voice once more._

_            One day, while he floated in his blue abyss, he decided he would get out of this place for a while, and find that voice, to get it to speak to him again. _

_            Now, he truly opened his eyes. _

_            And realized that he was drowning._

_            He struggled; tried to fight the current, to push himself towards the surface that he sought, above him. This was not the first time; when he came here, he had tried to do the same, but that had never succeeded. This time, he fought with all he had. _

_            The surface was nearing, a little out of reach; he reached up, tried to touch it, and kicked, fighting the strong undercurrent that pulled him down.  He fought back; with a mighty surge of power, he propelled himself upwards, breaking the surface..._

_

* * *

_

LONDON, ENGLAND

DEEP IN THE CITY

JEKYLL RESIDENCE

            Marie carried some clean, pressed bedlinen down the hallway, entering the room of her toddler Noah so she could leave some inside in case he needed a sudden bed-sheet change. Downstairs, her beloved husband Henry was treating his patients in his office.

            She was proud of her husband; he was the sole breadwinner, while she was a fairly good seamstress. Noah was in the garden, playing with Lizzy, Skinner's twelve year old daughter. 

            She stopped in the process of putting some sheets in the cupboard, thinking of the comatose man in the next room. 

            After falling into a coma in Norway, when the Nautilus had arrived back in England, Jekyll had volunteered to take care of Skinner until he woke up. Mina was willing to do so, but Jekyll had reasoned that he and Skinner were good friends, and Skinner would have done the same for him. They dared not risk a local hospital, afraid that Skinner's invisibility might be revealed. 

            Lizzy was living with them, and doing well in school. Her piano skills were greatly improving as well, something Skinner would be proud of if he ever woke up. 

            Vicky had stayed, for the better part of the two years. One night, when Jekyll came home from visiting a bed-ridden patient, he had just checked on Skinner and Vicky wasn't there. Marie hadn't seen her leave, too. They had found an envelope on the desk in the room Skinner was kept in: two hundred pounds, hard-earned from the job the wingless Vicky had found, and a short letter with an all-too familiar scrawl.

_Dr. and Mrs. Henry Jekyll;_

_I regret to say that I cannot stay to take care of Skinner any longer. I am thankful to you for letting me put up with you this past year and a half, and letting me take partial care of him. _

_However, I cannot take it any longer. I feel personally responsible for Skinner's current condition, and have thus decided to leave _London___. I do not intend to come back in the near future._

_I hope you will understand; it was my terror at Him that caused him to be in this state. _

_Please accept my apologies; I trust you will find the money I have enclosed in this letter enough to recover the expense of me staying with you. _

_                                                                        Take care,_

_                                                            Vicky A. _

            Marie resumed packing the linen. If Skinner woke up and found out that Vicky had left...she didn't know how he would react. She gathered up the stack, and she could hear the shrieks of laughter down below as Lizzy chased the two-year-old Noah around the garden.

            She left the room and entered Skinner's room. He was still in his coma, and she felt sorry for him. She turned her back to him as she opened the cupboard and packed the spare linen in. She hummed a nursery rhyme as she did so; Noah enjoyed this kind of thing. She finished the last of the linen and turned to leave. 

_"Henry!!!"_

_

* * *

_

LONDON, ENGLAND

DEEP IN THE CITY

SKINNER RESIDENCE

(NEW YEAR'S EVE) 

            The whole place smelled like roast turkey, and the many streamers and confetti bags were hung up; the massive tree in the middle of the hall was filled with home-made (and badly done) ornaments by the children; namely, all the kids except Will and Ajit. Will had, though, solved many accidents with the glue more than once. 

            Ajit and Alice had come from India and America respectively the week before, both in the Nautilus. Tom had arrived with Alice, and had told Allan in private that he had had a hard time convincing Huck and Becky about what had happened. 

            It was the first New Year since Skinner's recovery, and that in itself was cause for celebration. Christmas had been a wonderful affair, with lots of cake, fun and song. Skinner was too lazy to take down the Christmas tree and had re-named it, much to the delight of the younger ones, a "New Year Tree". They had all New Year wishes, stuck to a ornament, on the tree. 

            Skinner was now leading the younger children on what he called a "Red Indian Dance 'o Luck" around the house, while the parents and the older boys helped to set up the party. It was already 11.45pm, and Skinner and Tom had somehow kept the children awake to celebrate at midnight. 

            Marie lifted the roast above the heads of the children as they came hooting by, around the dining room. The Mrs. Jekyll laughed when she saw her son, dressed up in what was supposed to be Red Indian Chief's hat. He was adorable, grinning with glee, the hat sloped at an angle on his head, hanging crooked.

            Tom was holding the platter of sweets when he nearly walked into the line. "Hey, watch it!" he laughed. "I have the sweets, you know!"

            The children swarmed him at the mention of sweets. Skinner pretended to be offended.

            "You're abandoning the Red Indian Dance 'o Luck for sweets?" he asked. Luck, Lizzy and Alice turned at the same time and nodded in unison before turning back to Tom. Mina, Dorian and Allan laughed. Nemo raised an amused brow. As much as he disliked being on shore for two long, he had been seriously relieved when he had received word that Skinner had recovered and had convinced his sister-in-law to let Ajit come to England for a week or so. 

            Skinner then shook his head and laughed, good as new. He was feeling much better; he had gotten over his heartbreak when he had learned that Vicky had left. That was close to a year ago.         

            "Is that a knock at the door?" Mina asked. Skinner listened and nodded, mouthing a "I'll get it".

            Skinner was humming a song he remembered his mother used to sing at New Year's on the way to the door. He pulled the door open and said, without looking at the crazy salesman who came out at this time of night, "Sorry, but we don't want to buy anything."

            A familiar laugh made him look up. Vicky Attenbrough stood there, smiling. A very wingless Vicky Attenbrough. 

            "D'you really think someone is crazy enough to come out here selling things at this hour?" she asked, giving him a fond look. When he didn't answer, she continued. "I missed you."

            He looked at her, studying the lines of her face. She didn't look like she had changed, physically; but in her warm, amber eyes, he saw the void and the pain and the joy of seeing him again. "You left."

            "Yes, I did," she said. Her hands were stuffed in the pockets of her coat that came to her hips. A thick shawl was wrapped around her neck, and her beanie was badly-knit, the colors clashing. "And now I've come back."

            "Why?" he asked quietly. "Why did you leave?"

            She looked down at the snow beneath her feet before answering. "I...I needed some time. Alone. To think."

            "You needed a year and a half to 'think'?" he asked angrily. He was angry; angry that she had left, not sparing a thought about him..."I'm sorry, Vicky, but you had your chance." 

            With that, he slammed the door in her face. 


	17. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

            Skinner was halfway down the hall when Vicky started hammering at the door again. With a sigh, he retraced his steps and opened the door. 

            "Have you any idea how rude it is to slam the door in somebody's face?" Vicky asked. 

            He sighed again. "Look here, Vicky. Past year since I woke up, I've totally forgotten about you. I mean, we had that...that thing there, once, but no more. I've started over, Vicky. I don't love you any more, so — "

            Vicky grabbed him, pressing her lips to his. Skinner resisted, then found himself melting as her body heat mixed with his. He could feel her love, ebbing through their contact as she clutched his sweater, leaning into him. She needed him, his love once more....

            What a sight they must be, kissing in the doorway, in the freezing snow!

            Skinner was beginning to relax to Vicky when she buried her face in his sweater; it took him a minute to realize she was crying. 

            "I'm so sorry," she sobbed, and he had to support her from falling on the ground. "I'm so, so, sorry, Rodney...I couldn't take it...it was my fault, my fault that you were in the coma in the first place. If I hadn't been so scared, if I had moved, then you wouldn't have been like that..." She totally broke down on him, and he held her up, not sure what to do. 

            "Uh," Skinner said, looking over his shoulder. He prayed some one who come out from the hall to check on him, and help him out here. He particularly hoped it was Dorian, with his experience with women being vast as it were. "Uh, Vicky, calm down..."

            "I'm so sorry, Rodney," she wet his sweater. "I'm so sorry..."

            "Vicky!" Skinner shouted as she passed out from the cold and exhaustion — she had come straight from the train station, right off her train. "Vicky!!!" 

* * *

            Vicky woke up, the taste of brandy strong in her mouth. She was in a comfortable, over stuffed chair in a room she assumed to be Skinner's. Skinner was at the desk, screwing the top of the flask back on. She could hear the sounds of a party downstairs, and she shifted slightly. The invisible man heard her and glanced over his shoulder.      

            "Thank god you're awake," he said, turning, not letting on how relieved her felt. True, he was touched that she had come back. He missed her, but didn't want to risk love with her another time. "Gave me a pretty shock, you did. Foolish, that's what you are. You should've rested before you came here." 

            She straightened. "Riight. And risk getting kicked out by you past midnight?" She gave a small laugh. "I think not." 

            Skinner snorted. He came to stand in front of her, his hands in his pockets. It was then she realized that he had taken her coat off, dusted the snow off it. She was wearing her thick and comfortable blue cardigan, and she picture how warm she would be if she curled up with Skinner in front of a fire. 

             She reached out for him, but he drew back. She saw the flash of fear in his eyes. Fear of commitment, of getting hurt again. She sighed and put down her hand, letting it rest on the arm of the chair. She looked up at him with soulful eyes, head slightly tilted.

            "You really don't want to have what we used to have, don't you?" she asked sadly. She had come back for him, from France, where she had some Elven kin living amongst the humans there. Skinner nodded. Vicky stood up, a bit unsteady on her feet, saying, "I can wait, Rodney, but I'm only human. I can't wait forever." 

            She didn't hear a crack above them. Skinner did, and grabbed her arm, rolling under the table, as the roof and something caved in on them. It wrecked the room, smashing everything breakable. 

            Something fell on the tabletop, and the already half-broken desk's top splintered into sharp stakes. Vicky was on top of Skinner, underneath the table, and twisted her body so that a sharp spike, wouldn't pierce her shoulder. Skinner shifted; as the chunks ceiling rained down on them. Vicky rolled out form under the table as the rain of chunks stopped. 

            The table was a wreck; it had fallen apart, like a little shelter. She glanced around the room and saw a grand piano nestled in the middle of the room, right below the very big hole in the ceiling. She blinked. _Of all things, a grand piano had to fall on us._

She then realized that Skinner hadn't come out from under the table. She swore in a mixture of French and Elvish as she went on her knees and started to push aside the debris. _Probably got himself knocked out, _she thought, a tinge of affection there. _Men.___

She could hear the footsteps up the stairs, and voice. She stained to hear them as she cleared aside ceiling and wood. 

            _"...caved in..."_

_            "....need to clear..."_

_            "...could be hurt..."_     

            She shook her head and saw a piece of the splintered wood sticking upright, and a hundred and eighty degree angle. She found it strange, but pulled it out anyway. A strangle cry and blood on the pointed part of the wood piece made her drop it and frantically claw the debris away. 

            "Skinner!" she cried, gathering him up and holding him. The piece of wood had been driven into his chest, and she had pulled it out. Blood was spreading all over his chest, staining his white sweater a ghastly crimson. She shouted at the door, hoping someone could hear here. "Somebody, help!" 

            "Vicky," Skinner gasped. Blood was bubbling from his mouth, and Vicky knew that the wood had punctured a lung. She turned to look at him, close to tears. "Vicky...Gosh, it hurts."

            "Rodney, you have to hang on. They're coming," Vicky whispered tearfully. She could hear the rest clearing the fallen roof from the stairs. "They're coming."

            "You fool," he whispered hoarsely, "Comin' here at this time of night. Listen to me, Vicky..." 

            "I am," she reassured him. "I am."

            "Vicky...I tried to pretend that I didn't, but I do..."

            "What, Rodney? What?" Vicky glanced at the door as she wiped the blood from Skinner's mouth. "Tell me, please."

            "I love you."

            He smiled up at her. Vicky checked his pulse. 

            Outside, the clock struck midnight as a scream of anguish echoed off the streets.

* * *

A/N: The end...maybe. I feel like writing an epilogue, but I think it stays nicely like this, y'know? I think you do. Well. 

**Grayroom74: **'fraid I may not be able to oblige you with that. Maybe. Not sure about that point. And, I think, that I did pretty well, no? She went to look for him, instead of the other way round. Heh.

**Clez****: the idea of the kids mobbing Tom came from my little cousin's birthday party. I was talking to my aunt when I said the word 'sweets' and all the little brats swarmed me. *shudder***


	18. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

            "James!" 

            Vicky went over to her son, barely a year old. He was playing in the garden, under her watchful eye. He had a new toy bee (sewn by his mother himself, who had finally overcome her fear of needles) that he had named Jimbee. Her boy was half-buried in a bush of berries, his bee nowhere to be seen; probably in the bush with the top half of his body inside.

            "Boys," she muttered as she crossed the small garden. "I turn away for a minute and when I turn back, half of him is missing."  

            Vicky pulled her son's waist and he came out with a rustle of bushes, Jimbee in one hand and ripe berries in the other. There were leaves in his hair, the tousled hair the color of fire, with three streaks of yellow in them; one of the extreme left and right of his mass of hair, and the third running right through the top of his head like a skunk's white stripe. He held up his handful of berries to show his mother. 

            "Mama," he grinned, eyes twinkling as he put it under her nose. She carried him to the back porch of the house and sat down there. "Ber-ry." 

            He sat in her lap and played with his bee and squashed his berries in the process. Vicky watched him, and thought at the same time. 

            After that incident in Skinner's house, she had grown stronger. She still woke up from nightmares, sometimes, of that night. That New Year's night that had changed the course of her life.      

            She sighed as James chattered happily to himself and Jimbee about the ripe berries. She ruffled his hair and gazed off in to the distance. _Rodney Skinner... The man I love until this day. The man who taught me the meaning of love. _

Her husband should be home soon, she thought. With him their older daughter, back from the library. They had agreed that their older child's education was to be more liberal that current times allowed. She was well-versed in math and language, and Vicky had even taught her elvish so that the girl was fluent. 

            She loved her husband so, and their children even more. Their daughter was from a previous marriage, but her birth mother had died when the child was young. James was much younger than his sister, by close to fourteen years.

            There was the sound of the door opening out front, then the clatter of footsteps. Seconds later, a very loud _thump._

            "Honey, I'm home!" her husband's voice called, laughter in it. James sat right up and dropped the berries on the grass as he clambered up Vicky's shoulder to get a look at his father, standing tip-toed on her lap. 

            "Daddy!" James shouted happily, bouncing up and down on Vicky's lap. "Daddy! Daddy!" 

            "Yep, kid, I'm back," her other half said as he picked his son up. "Miss me?" 

            "I did," Vicky said, standing up. In the house, she wore pants, something she was much more comfortable in that the conventional skirts. She kept tripping on them. 

            "A half-hour away too much for you, darlin'?" he teased, just as James did a loud "Jim-beeeeeeeeeee" to annoy his sister as she walked by. She gave a loud _humph and rolled her eyes as the fifteen-year-old piano prodigy went up the stairs to her room. _

            Vicky gave him a sarcastic smile, walking into the house to get dinner ready, taking in his riot of red hair, bright green eyes, and his cheeky grin as he followed her in, carrying their son.

            "Well, _Mrs. Vicky," her husband said, laughing, "I'd say you weren't happy about naming me leaving and Jim here to your own devices."   _

            "I may be your wife," Vicky said, turning around, "But don't think I won't give you a few hard knocks to that head of yours."

            "Aye, aye," he said. To James, he said, "Well, little one, what d'you say we go up to your room and play with Jimbee until your mum cooks dinner, eh?" James bounced up and down in glee as his father carried him up the stairs. 

            "Mrs. Vicky,"Vicky gave a small, soft laugh as she set out to the momentous occasion of cooking dinner for the family. "Whenever he calls me that, he forgets the last name." In her mind's eye, she pictured her full name in written form, stopping for a moment in her task. She nodded to herself with a smile, then went back to work.

            Mrs. Vicky _Skinner.  _

            ~THE END~ 

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A/N: And so concludes another journey of the League and its members...but, wait! Is that a spark of an idea in this author's mind? Is a new journey beginning, forming, taking shape? Why, to find out, dear reader, you shall have to wait and see. 

(P.S. I wrote this immediately after the last chapter, but I wanted to wait for some time to see how my dear, beloved readers would react. And, as expected, I got a beating over the head with a rubber chicken and a person who's going to murder me!)  


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